


Chase

by wicked3659



Series: Chase [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based originally from a kink meme request on livejournal. http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=8988894#t8988894</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning After...

Frowning at the table as though it held all the answers, Prowl vented out a soft sigh. Last had been such a blur he couldn’t really be sure it all actually happened as he remembered it. Leaning forward and rubbing his helm wearily, the Praxian poked absently at the data pad in front of him. He didn’t do things like this. He wasn’t the kind of mech to throw himself at another. Had he been that overcharged? Scanning through his memory files, his frown deepened as he couldn’t recall ingesting that much high grade. What had come over him? Furthermore, had it really been such an awful experience that he deserved to be kicked out of the berth at a time in the cycle even Prowl called early. Bemused and tired, though too distracted to recharge, Prowl peered into his mid grade and sighed softly. It was a good thing he had the morning off; the enforcement agency did not take kindly to tardiness, especially from their senior officers.

The previous night.

The enforcer had been reluctant to join his fellow enforcers at the local bar. It was a special occasion though and the lieutenant had earned his recent promotion. Prowl did come here infrequently and his colleagues had been insistent that he come along. In spite of his natural aloofness, he got on well with the majority of the other officers, they respected him as lead enforcer and he their hard work and every so often he indulged them in a brief cycle of socialisation.

The bar was a local Praxian establishment, quite popular to mechs and femmes from bordering cities. It was lively but the music was at a comfortable level and pitch so that his sensory panels didn’t ache with the vibrations of sound. He’d been sipping at his high grade amidst a table of animated and chatting Praxians when an unfamiliar, yet striking face caught Prowl’s optic.

The mech sauntered across the small dance floor like he owned the place and mechs greeted him as though he was the missing piece to their party. How did he know everyone when Prowl didn’t recognise him? Prowl prided himself on knowing the faces of his district, even those that passed through. He wouldn’t be a good enforcer if he didn’t. The mech bore a colour scheme very similar to his own; this was unusual in itself as it was a rather plain get up for one who seemed so buoyant.

Watching the mech weave through the bar, chatting animatedly to almost every ‘bot he bumped into, Prowl found himself staring when the small mech began to dance when the music changed to something more upbeat. His spark fluttered as the mech appeared oblivious to everything but the music and Prowl checked himself subtly when he suddenly developed an almost irresistible urge to be swaying with that lithe form, his hands trailing over his black and white plating.

Forcing himself to look away, Prowl gulped his high grade – a move he instantly regretted because as soon as it was empty a colleague had already bought him another – despite not wanting to get overcharged; he did take another mouthful, concentrating on the ever so mild tingle buzzing through his systems.

“You alright, Prowl?” A young enforcer piped up, smiling at his senior.

Composing himself, Prowl inclined his helm in a slight nod and offered an even smaller smile. “I’m fine, thank you. Are you enjoying the evening?”

“Yeah, it’s great! This is my first district, I’m so glad I got posted here, you’re quite a legend at the enforcer academy.”

“Really?” Prowl’s optics flickered in surprise. He wouldn’t have described anything he did as legendary but he was not one to crush a young mech’s exuberance while at a party. “Well… I am flattered.”

“It’s an honour to be working with you, Sir.” The young enforcer grinned brightly, before something on the other side of the room caught his attention. “Oh fabulous, the band is starting up.”

“Band?” Prowl followed his gaze and once again found his sights fixed on that same small black and white mech, who was now fronting the band making its debut appearance. The music started up and that visored mech began to sing. Prowl no longer saw any of the other band members or the enforcers around him, all of his focus was on that mech. He couldn’t recall if he’d heard a voice sound quite so sweet and melodious as that visored mech. He listened enraptured by the music and the words and his sensory panels fluttered ever so slightly when that bright blue visor seemed to look his way. Prowl – normally reserved in such situations – simply could not bring himself to look away. Instead he smiled shyly, his spark leaping when the singer smiled through his lyrics and turned back to the growing crowd. Frowning at his almost youngling like behaviour, Prowl silently chastised himself and finished his second cube of high grade, his optics dimming as he listened to the almost sad dulcet tones of the singer bringing their final piece to a close.

Sighing softly, Prowl made an executive decision to be bold. If only for one night. Placing his cube on the table, he surprised a couple of the other enforcers when he stood and immediately began to weave his way through the milling mechs to catch the singer’s attention. The ones who saw him, elbowed each other in almost excited fascination, nobody had ever seen Prowl make a move on anyone. Ever.

Inhaling deeply, Prowl gently touched the arm of the smaller mech when he was close enough and leaned closer in order to speak into his audio without shouting. “Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” He asked softly, receiving a quirked optic ridge in return.

Nodding to his band mates, Jazz turned to him and shrugged. “What’s in it for you, mech?”

Shaking his helm with a coy smile, Prowl met his steady gaze, hoping his sudden nervousness wasn’t obvious. “A small chance to get to know you.”

“Huh.” Jazz eyed him warily and shrugged casually. “Lead the way, mech. I’m not rude enough to turn down free Praxian high grade.” Jazz’s hidden optics drifted over Prowl’s well built frame as he walked over to the bar in front of him and with a slight pursing of his lip components he silently whistled approvingly at what he saw. There was no harm in having fun for one night.

Accepting it graciously, in spite of Jazz’s caution, Prowl led the way to a quieter corner of the bar and gave a nod to the bartender. Handing Jazz a cube of high grade, he took a sip of his own. “When I first saw you, I didn’t expect you to be a singer.” He spoke quietly, taking another sip to mask his own social awkwardness.

“Should never make assumptions.” Jazz grinned, tilting his helm in thanks for the high grade and taking two large gulps. “Who did you think I was?”

“Maybe an enforcer from a different district. I’m not adept when it comes to places such as this.” Prowl replied humbly.

“Pfffft! High ranking enforcer like you, I bet you can figure all sorts about a mech before he even knows you exist, right?”

Ducking his helm with a smile, Prowl cast his gaze around the room. “I try to leave work, at work.”

“Well I guess we all don’t have that luxury.” Jazz took another gulp and sidled up closer. “So I hear you wanna get to know more about me.”

Prowl nodded, intakes quickening when Jazz pressed closer. “That would be nice, yes,” he stated. “You have a lovely voice,” he added quickly.

“Mm, I’m sure that’s all you think is lovely, right?” Jazz grinned teasingly.

Optics flickering, Prowl drew back slightly. “I have no intentions towards you if that’s what you mean.”

Holding out his hands in surrender, Jazz laughed softly. “Chill, mech. I’m just messin’ with you, alright? Not every cycle an enforcer shows interest in little old me.”

Prowl nodded and downed a mouthful of high grade, not thinking before replying. “Then they’re clearly not using their optics.”

Jazz stifled another laugh when the black and white enforcer suddenly looked mortified by his own words.

“I’m sorry; I don’t mean to sound so forward. It’s just you caught my attention and I have been told I’m not the most socially aware of mechs.” Prowl tripped over his explanation, looking away from the smaller mech with a faint scowl.

Shifting closer, Jazz leaned against the bar so Prowl had to look at him. “Don’t do this often do ya?”

Bowing his helm and staring into his high grade, Prowl murmured quietly. “Is it that obvious?”

Smirking, Jazz nudged him playfully. “Need to relax, mech. What’s your name?”

“Prowl. And yours?”

“The name’s Jazz and singing ain’t my day job.” He offered Prowl a small genuine smile, feeling like he should at least give the enforcer a break before he snapped something. “C’mon, Prowler, do you wanna get out of here?”

Optics brightening in surprise, Prowl held Jazz’s earnest gaze. “Really?”

“Yeah, mech.” Jazz laughed brightly. “What are we younglings? I know what I want when I see it.” He dropped his voice to a lower huskier pitch. “How about you?”

Finishing his high grade, Prowl gave a curt nod. “Where would you like to go?”

 

“I know just the place.” Jazz grabbed his hand and led the way out, waving to one of his band mates as he did so.

Prowl allowed himself to be led, forcing his spark to calm down in his chest and his optics to remain fixed ahead so he did not have to meet the curious gazes of his fellow enforcers. Come morning, those who remembered, wouldn’t dare to ask him about his personal life while on duty.

Jazz moved quickly through the streets, not bothering to transform as he glanced back at Prowl with a sly grin. He led them up some steps to a humble apartment and quickly tugged Prowl inside a modest room and shut the door behind them. “There, can hear myself think.” He headed to the kitchen area and poured out some more high grade. Handing a cube to Prowl he shrugged. “It ain’t as fine as the Praxian stuff, but it’s got a nice kick to it.”

Nodding, grateful for something to hold at the very least, Prowl took a mouthful and almost choked on the bitter taste.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jazz chuckled, sprawling himself out on the sofa. “So, enforcer Prowl, what do you want to know?”

Smiling faintly, Prowl moved to sit beside him and dared another sip of the bitter tasting high grade. “Whatever you would like to tell me.”  
“Ooohh, what if I didn’t want to tell you anything.” Jazz stretched out, his visor darkening slightly as he gazed at Prowl. “What if… I just brought you here to make a move?”

Swallowing a mouthful of high grade hurriedly, Prowl glanced quickly at Jazz. “I… I would not be averse to that.”

“Mm didn’t think you would, mech.” Jazz grinned. “So how about you put down that cube, hm?”

Prowl placed the cube on the table, now feeling quite relaxed, his circuits buzzing pleasantly. “You’re sure?” He asked softly.

“Always, mech.” Jazz positively purred.

Exhaling softly, Prowl leaned in and tentatively pressed his lip components against Jazz’s, receiving a soft mewl in return. Pulling back slightly, he searched Jazz’s face for any sign of reluctance, receiving a cheeky smirk as the dark helmed mech nipped his lower lip, lavving it slowly with his glossa in an unspoken invitation.

Growling lowly, Prowl pressed close, devouring his mouth with a deep kiss. His glossa met Jazz’s and delved beyond it into the inviting warmth of his mouth. Pushing Jazz back on the sofa, Prowl wasted no time in mapping the seams and lines of the smaller mech’s frame, relishing each moan and whimper he elicited. Prowl was certainly no stranger to interfacing and once the awkwardness had all but vanished he let his urges and desires take over.

Jazz was not shy in the berth either and his hands splayed over those enticing sensor panels, his mouth swallowing Prowl’s heady moan as he stroked them slowly, smiling in delight when they quivered in pleasure beneath his fingers. He’d give Prowl his due, the mech was a looker when he relaxed and learned to enjoy the moment. Feeling his components starting to heat up and throb at Prowl’s teasing, he mouthed over the cables in Prowl’s throat and worried one between his denta, drawing a bead of energon from the metal. “How about… we move this to the berth?” He panted lightly, gyrating his body seductively against Prowl’s heating frame.

There were no more words as the mechs moved from the sofa to the larger berth. Their mouths, hands were in constant contact as they touched and caressed, kissed and bit each other, their passion growing with every passing klik. Prowl roughly pushed Jazz down onto the berth and crawled over his smaller frame, his glossa sliding over his hot panel as moved higher up Jazz’s frame.

Jazz growled, his engine revving hard at Prowl’s ministrations, his visor fixed on that ruby chevron crowning that white helm as he mouthed and sucked over his plating. Bucking his hips he retracted his panel and gasped as cool air washed over his too hot components. His gasp was cut short as he felt a slick warmth bury itself into his quivering valve.

Keening, his hands clutching at the berth. He watched as Prowl licked and kissed his valve in a way no other mech had – or had been allowed to – before. Frag but he was good. “Nnghh, Prowler… s’good, mech…”

Pulling away, Prowl mouthed over Jazz’s spike and pressed flush to the smaller mech, his sensory panels flaring out as their components rubbed together. Jazz crushed their mouths together, his glossa delving into Prowl’s mouth, tasting himself as the Praxian mewled quietly.

They writhed together. Prowl broke the kiss, his optics fixed on Jazz’s face as he moved his hips slowly, moaning as his spike was enveloped with Jazz’s tight heat.

Jazz’s mouth fell open, visor flickering, their groans and whimpers becoming more needy as Prowl rocked into the smaller mech, his hands took hold of Jazz’s, fingers interlacing as he pressed them either side of Jazz’s helm, into the soft padding of the berth. Their movements grew in passion and vigour with every thrust. Both mechs lost themselves to the carnal want of the moment, uncaring of how loud they got or how long they’d known each other, everything forgotten as overload eventually claimed them both. Their cries of release echoing throughout the small room.

After a few more groons of passionate, processor spinning interfacing, the two mechs fell into recharge beside each other, completely sated and exhausted.

Barely a couple of cycles passed before Prowl felt himself being roughly nudged awake. Blinking at Jazz in the dim light, he frowned slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mm… you gotta go.” Jazz mumbled, lying face down on the berth.

Now fully awake, Prowl stared in bewilderment. “It’s the middle of the night, Jazz.”

“Uhuh, s’why you gotto go. Got work, got t’be up early, mech.” Jazz shoved him lightly out of the berth before pulling the thermal blanket around himself and turning away without a second look. “I had fun…thanks. Be seein’ ya.” He muttered into the pillow, settling with his helm turned away from Prowl in dismissal as he started to fall back into recharge.

Completely confused, Prowl opened his mouth to protest, before Jazz beat him to it.

“Was fun meeting you, Prowler… “ Came the sleepy mumble. “No hard feelings, alright…”

“My name’s Prowl.” The Praxian replied tersely, frowning back at the slumbering form of Jazz who simply mumbled incoherently in reply. Bemused and feeling more than a little used, Prowl exited the apartment and transformed to make the longer journey home through the quiet streets.

****  
Present.

Scowling at his data pad, Prowl sent it skittering across his desk in frustration. Had he come on too strong, had he made Jazz think that was all he was after? Had he somehow offended the mech during their intimacy? Frag it all to the pits! He had to set the record straight if nothing else. Sighing wearily, Prowl rubbed his temples in attempt to ease the growing processor ache at the realisation he was going to have to visit the bar once more, in the slim hope he encountered the black and white again. If only to apologise for his uncharacteristic behaviour.


	2. Apologies

Walking into the quiet bar this early in the cycle looked bad on two counts. First of all he was one of the highest ranked enforcers in Praxus; this did not ingratiate him to his superiors or the public. Secondly, the bar was dead at this time in the cycle and for an enforcer to be seen entering the establishment was not considered good for business. Prowl knew that it wouldn’t have waited though, his processor would have gone over and over the previous night to such an extent his work would very likely have suffered. Plus he did not really want to put up with his partner’s teasing for the rest of the cycle. Ironhide was a good mech but when he got his denta into something, he shook it until it stopped living.

Exhaling softly as he hesitated at the entrance, Prowl composed himself and quickly brought his emotions under control. Stepping over the threshold he glanced around the room. The bar looked so different in bright light and clean. There was the odd mech dotted about the place, some were employees, and others were listed bands due to play there later in the cycle. Glancing over at the barmech who was idly stacking up some cubes, Prowl ventured over. “Excuse me.”

Optics flickering at the unexpected sight of an enforcer the barmech suddenly looked very ill at ease. “Yeah…?”

“I was hoping you could point me in the direction of the lead singer from the last solar cycle’s performance?”

Managing to feign an air of indifference towards the enforcer the barmech shrugged unhelpfully. “Why, what’s he done?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Prowl replied, using his most no nonsense tone as he quirked an optic ridge at the obtuse mech. “Is he here? And let me remind you that obstruction of an investigation is a felony in the city of Praxus.”

The barmech faltered and pouted a little, his helm gesturing to a door by the side of the modest stage. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

Canting his helm slightly in thanks, Prowl ignored the subsequent grumblings from the barmech and ventured over to the slightly ajar door. Rapping on the surface lightly, he peered inside the smaller room. “Hello?”

“Hi!” A yellow minibot greeted him cheerfully and waved him in. “What can we do for you, officer?” He smiled brightly.

“I was looking for the lead singer of your group; I believe his name is Jazz.” Prowl replied calmly, his sharp optics looking about the room, noticing a rather sullen mech glaring at him from the corner and a red mech smirking behind his hand as he slowly turned away. Clearly he had missed some sort of joke. Undeterred he looked back to the minibot. “Is he here?”

The small mech shrugged. “He was, had some errands said he’d be back later.” The cheerful mech grinned at Prowl. “Want me to give him a message?”

Pressing his lip components together, Prowl shook his helm a little. “No it’s fine, I trust he will be here this evening?”

“What’s it to you?” The sullen mech spoke up from his shadowy corner, his tone haughty and demanding. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, I just wish to speak to him.”

“About last night.” The blue mech stated quietly before peeling away from the wall and making his way over to Prowl.

“C’mon, ‘Raj… you know what Jazz said…” The red mech murmured as the mech ‘Raj brushed past him.

“I am aware.” He retorted stuffily, his optics never leaving Prowl. “Now look here, Prowl isn’t it?”

“I—yes…” Prowl replied in mild confusion that this mech knew his name.

“If you had a good time, leave it at that. Jazz is not a mech you can just come and sniff around whenever you like. Now I suggest you run along back to your desk like the good enforcer you are, I’m sure there’s some infraction you could be dealing with. Better get to it before your Captain gets wind you’re neglecting your duties.”

Affronted at the smug, condescending tone of the blue mech, Prowl’s sensor panels rose up on his back and he folded his arms as he regarded the mech with a cold, blank, glare.

“Um… ‘Raj…” The minibot nudged the taller mech with a grimace up at Prowl as he noticed the ranking decals on his helm and sensor panels.

“Do you mind, I’m trying to make a point here. Jazz needs to learn to clean up his messes.” The blue mech retorted impatiently. Looking back at Prowl, he huffed air through his vents in irritation. “Do I need to repeat myself, enforcer Prowl?”

“What is your name?” Prowl asked quietly, optics narrowing at the blue mech. “’Raj is it?”

Frowning at the enforcer’s audacity, the blue mech glanced at the other two who immediately gestured for him to quit while he was ahead. “It’s Mirage actually and that’s not the po—“

“—Mirage, for your information I am the Captain and I can assure you my duties are not being neglected. I can however make sure you get to spend a nice long solar cycle in the cells if you wish to continue your current tone of disrespect in my city.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” The blue mech exclaimed, anger bubbling to the surface in an attempt to cover his embarrassment of talking down to a high ranking enforcer.

Prowl’s mouth curled upwards in one corner into a subtle smirk, creating a much more sinister expression as he regarded Mirage coolly. “You can be assured, I will find something.” Canting his helm curiously at the disgruntled mech he returned to his usual stoicism. “You were saying?”

“Jazz isn’t here. Don’t know when he’ll be back.” The blue mech skulked away, now resorting to glaring at every mech in the room.

Looking to the first mech who had been the most helpful, Prowl decided to cut his losses. “Could you tell Jazz tha—“

“—Why don’t you tell ‘im yourself.” Came a soft drawl interrupting the enforcer mid-sentence.

Turning to face Jazz at the door, it took all of Prowl’s resolve to prevent his sensory panels from fluttering. “Jazz…”

“Well, this is certainly a surprise.” Jazz replied, glancing over the other three mechs with a resigned sigh. “Hope these glitches didn’t give you a hard time.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Prowl answered blandly, ignoring the muttering from the blue mech. “Is there some place we could talk?” He asked casually, making sure to not betray just how suddenly anxious he was feeling. What had he been thinking?

“Sure.” Jazz responded quietly, turning and leading the way out of the room without so much as a second glance.

Jazz found a secluded table and gestured for Prowl to sit in the chair opposite his. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you.” Prowl accepted the offered chair and couldn’t help but feel perplexed at Jazz’s demeanour. The previous night they’d seemed to click so easily, connect almost and yet now, in the metaphorical light of day, Jazz could barely even look him in the optic – granted his visor made it difficult to ascertain where he was looking – but Prowl was skilled enough to recognise furtive glances and unease when he saw them.

Jazz poured himself a cube in silence, neither of them speaking for a few kliks. The silence became heavier the longer neither of them spoke, until Prowl felt positively uncomfortable. Shifting in his seat, he glanced across at Jazz who inadvertently met his gaze and quickly looked away.

“About last night…”

Both mechs stopped when they realised they’d spoken simultaneously.

Ducking his helm with a nervous laugh, Jazz gestured for Prowl to continue. “You came to see me, so you obviously got something important to say so let’s hear it.”

“Alright.” Prowl replied quietly. “I wanted to apologise for last night. If I acted improper or offended you then I’m sorry, it was not my intention.”

Jazz didn’t respond straight away and stared at Prowl, dumbfounded, his mouth slightly open in mild confusion. “Are you for real, mech?”

Blinking in confusion, Prowl tilted his helm in a silent query at the visored mech. “I beg your pardon?”

Jazz leaned forward on the table, hands clasped in front of him as he studied Prowl suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”

“I have no angle.”

“You must have an angle. What are you after? Spill it.”

“I don’t understand I just wanted to apologise for my inappropriate behaviour.” Prowl frowned, feeling more perplexed with each passing klik.

“Your inappropriate behaviour?” Jazz repeated dubiously. “So the fact that it was me who kicked you out of my berth in the middle of the night has no bearing on you?”

“Well I assumed I must have done something that offended you, although I was hoping you could tell me what it was.”

Sitting back in his seat, folding his arms, Jazz shrugged a little. “I’m not seeing what the catch is but if it means that much to you… you did nothing wrong, alright?”

Scowling a little as he mulled over Jazz’s words, Prowl looked down at the table with a shake of his helm. “I don’t understand why me coming here to apologise equates to me having some ulterior motive.” Looking up to meet Jazz’s steady gaze, Prowl’s expression changed to one of realisation. “You think that’s all I wanted from you and this was some ploy for a repeat performance so to speak?”

“Hey mech, you said it not me.” Jazz replied nonchalantly.

“Is that true?” Prowl pressed the issue, beginning to feel quite insulted himself.

Jazz shrugged again, an action that was starting to test Prowl’s unending patience. “Just sayin’ it as I see it. No one apologises for being kicked out of a berth, not unless they think they’ve got something to gain from it. So…”

“So… what?” Prowl pushed his whole frame bristling at the insinuation.

“So…. What is it you want?” Jazz repeated his earlier question. “You want another ‘face because sure, I had fun, I’m game if you are but if you’re wanting to settle down have sparklings you got another thing coming. I draw the line at sharing my berth.”

It was Prowl’s turn to stare gobsmacked at the black and white mech. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What kind of mech are you?”

“I’m sorry?” Jazz tilted his helm quizzically at the now disgruntled enforcer.

Getting to his feet with a sharp ex-vent of air, Prowl threw Jazz a cold glare. “Praxians for your information are generally mechs of honour. It is not a standard practice to take random mechs to one’s berth whenever we feel like we have an urge. I respect those I am intimate with and Primus forbid I actually liked you!” He gestured widely towards Jazz with his arm, turning his back on him and marching for the door.

“Hey hey, you sought me out, remember?” Jazz called out.

Prowl whirled around his sensory panels flaring up and out in an intimidating fashion. “Yes and if you could recall through your arrogance, you were the one who invited me to your berth. How was I supposed to know it was something you made a hobby of?” He spat the words out angrily before turning on his heel again and making a hasty retreat. Seething he headed for the nearby transport, he had never been so insulted, worse still, he had never lost his cool in such a manner since he was a youngling. Groaning in dismay at his words and actions, he sat back in the seat of the boarding transport and sighed wearily. This was not turning out to be the solar cycled he had first hoped it would be.

****  
“What the slag crawled up your tail pipe and died?” Ironhide grunted when his partner entered their shared office with a face like thunder.

“Not now, Ironhide.” Prowl snapped.

Ironhide had to stop what he was doing in shock and stare at the Praxian. Prowl didn’t snap. Ever. “Is the world ending?” He asked sardonically, receiving a murderously dark look for his trouble.

“Just leave it.” Prowl’s words were terse and short, the mech was in short; pissed.

“Hmpff, you keep taking that tone with me, youngling and I’ll knock you around the training room a few times for the trouble.”

Quirking an optic ridge at the red mech’s blaze retort, Prowl lost some of his steam. “You’re barely a vorn older than I am.”

“Still makes me older.” Ironhide stated smugly. “So you gonna tell me what’s gotten under your plating or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?”

“You don’t always have to resort to violence, you realise?” Prowl remarked glibly, his anger visibly draining from his frame.

“Mech, you’re the most stubborn, obstinate, rule abiding, gli—“

“—your point?!” Prowl interrupted through the string of insults, he’d heard it all before, many times.

“I’m just saying, with you, violence is prudent if I want results.” The red mech grinned, ignoring Prowl’s pointed glare. “Which is it gonna be, Prowl? I’ve got the rest of the solar cycle free to reformat your aft into a trash compactor.”

Sighing in defeat and leaning forward over his desk, slumping in a manner that was very unbecoming of his usual poise, Prowl mumbled into the desk.

Optics flickering in surprise, Ironhide tilted his helm quizzically at the sight. “Say what now?”

“I met someone.” Prowl repeated more clearly, sitting back in his chair with a loud exvent of air.

“Oh… I see.” Ironhide replied, not quite sure how to respond. “Normally I’d say this is a good thing, but this is you we’re talking about.”

“Thank you so much for your support.” Came the Praxian’s sarcastic retort.

“Glad to help.” Ironhide grinned, finishing off his report. Getting to his feet he perched on the edge of Prowl’s desk and waited.

Glancing up at the red mech looking at him knowingly, Prowl sighed once more and shook his helm. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sure you don’t.”  
“Ironhide—“

“—Prowl don’t treat me like an idiot. You’re unfocused and distracted and if we get called out on a case right now, I don’t want you covering my back, you’re a liability. So I don’t see you’ve got any other choice but to talk about it.”

Wilting in his seat, knowing full well that Ironhide was right – and Primus damn him for appealing to his sense of duty – becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Prowl offlined his optics. “We met last night. I thought we clicked and we went back to his apartment. What was I thinking, Ironhide? I don’t do this! I certainly don’t throw myself at someone.” Exasperated Prowl pushed out of his seat and started to pace their office.

“You seen him since?” Ironhide asked quietly, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Yes. Not two breems ago.” Prowl answered, rubbing his helm in frustration. “Jazz accused me of having some ulterior motive when I went there to apologise.”

“What did you need to apologise for?”

“He kicked me out of his berth in the middle of the night.” Prowl answered wearily.

“Wait wait, he kicked you out and you went to apologise to him?” Ironhide asked completely befuddled. “Primus, Prowl; I’d be asking you what your angle was.”

Sensory panels drooping at the statement, Prowl regarded Ironhide with a concerned expression. “You’re saying I shouldn’t have apologised?”

“Prowl, you’re a smart mech, a very smart mech, but sometimes you’ve got the naiveté of a youngling.”

“I resent the insinuation.” Prowl replied coolly.

Moving over to his partner and clapping him amicably on the shoulder, giving Prowl a look of what one could almost call sympathy, Ironhide smiled at his partner. “Did you ever think maybe the mech has some problems with trust, maybe that’s why he finds it so easy to ‘face you and kick you out?” At Prowl’s astonished look, quickly turning into one of despair at the realisation, Ironhide chuckled. “Never crossed your mind, huh?” Shaking his helm he laughed good-naturedly. “Sounds to me like the mech had his defences up.”

“Ironhide, I’m such a fool. How could I not have seen that?” Prowl responded clearly distressed by the thought he’d further upset a mech he apparently really seemed to like.

“You like this mech?”

The Praxian gave his partner a short nod, not caring to reveal anymore about his feelings than he already had at this moment.

“I tell you what.” Ironhide grinned. “Tonight, we’ll go to back to the bar, no arguments.” He added as Prowl opened his mouth to protest. “If you’re really interested, I’ll help you get back on track.”

Prowl folded his arms and pursed his lip components thoughtfully. “To what end?”

“That, mech, depends on you. Better decide what you want because this, Jazz was it? He sounds like a flight risk.”

“This does not seem like a good idea, I said some harsh things.”

Ironhide let out a loud laugh, filled with the experience of a mech who knew what he was talking about. “Prowl, when it comes to matters like this; there aren’t any good ideas. Just gotta do your best with what you’ve got.”

Prowl sank back down into his chair slowly, looking a little dazed. “I’m doomed.” He murmured absently.

Ironhide clicked in mocking disapproval. “You may have a great processor, Prowl amongst other admirable traits but there’s just some things you can’t learn from a data pad.”

Planting his face firmly into his palm with a groan, Prowl’s reply was a muffled one. “What have I gotten myself into?”  
****  
A few breems later, Prowl found himself entering the bar for the second time that solar cycle. If any observant mechs were around they would start to think he had a problem. Following Ironhide to a table in the corner and allowing his partner to head to the bar to order drinks, Prowl’s optics scanned through the crowds of mechs. He spied Jazz by the stage preparing with his band for tonight’s performance. His back was facing him and much to Prowl’s surprise he noticed small sensory panels protruding from Jazz’s back. How had he not noticed that before? Was it possible that Jazz had some Praxian heritage?

Looking away as Jazz looked up across the crowd, Prowl was presented with a full cube by Ironhide who grinned at him and took the seat opposite.

“How you feeling?”

“Ironhide, please, I’m not glitched.” Prowl sipped his cube, unable to help himself from glancing over in Jazz’s direction subtly.

Following Prowl’s gaze, Ironhide gave a low hum and a nod of approval. “Well I’ll say this, Prowl. Not bad.” He raised his cube and gulped a mouthful nonchalantly as the Praxian glared at him mildly. He rolled an idea around in his processor for a moment before getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Prowl asked quickly, instantly worried.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to blow your cover.” Ironhide weaved his way through the crowd towards the bar and Prowl relaxed only a fraction, not trusting his partner not to embarrass him in some way or another.

Leaning over to the barmech, Ironhide pointed to the fine Praxian high grade on the top shelf and gestured towards Jazz and his band, before pointing back at Prowl. The barmech grinned and nodded and accepted payment, leaving Ironhide to saunter back to the table while he carried out his plan.

“What did you do?” Prowl’s optics narrowed at Ironhide’s smug smirk as the red mech sat back down.

“Nothing much.” Mused the mech idly, kicking back into his seat comfortably. “Oh by the way, you owe me forty credits.”

“What for!?” Prowl exclaimed.

“You’ll see in about ten kliks.” Ironhide gestured towards where Jazz was setting up, in time to see the barmech make his way over with the bottle of fine Praxian high grade.

Shrinking in his seat, wishing he could actually be swallowed whole, Prowl hissed at his partner. “Tell me you didn’t?”

“Just watch.” Ironhide chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Jazz looked up at the light tap on his shoulder. “Yeah?”

The barmech smiled and placed the bottle on the table.

“Whoa, mech, I can’t afford this!” Jazz protested, frowning in confusion.

“Not a problem, it’s from the gentlemech in the corner.” The barmech pointed to where Prowl was currently trying and failing to hide behind his cube, or at least drown in it.

Visor flickering, Jazz hummed in surprise. “Alright…”

The red mech Prowl had met earlier nudged Jazz playfully. “Well I guess some mechs don’t take no for an answer, huh?” He grinned at Jazz’s dark look.

“I’ll give it back.”

“Hey!” Blaster swiped the bottle before Jazz could grab it and frowned at his friend. “You ever thought about giving this one a chance, Jazz? I mean… he’s an enforcer for Primus’ sake, can’t be all bad.”

Mirage huffed snottily from the adjacent table.

“Ignore him, he’s just sulking.” Bumblebee piped up, cheerful as ever.

Blaster looked back to Jazz who was glaring at the high grade. “Jazz… c’mon…. you need to give yourself a break.”

Snatching the bottle, Jazz glared at his friend. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the last time I let myself ‘have a break’.” He retorted testily. “I’ll give it back, be ready to play in five.” Turning on his heel, Jazz made his way towards Prowl, bottle in hand, his spark pounding with an emotion he couldn’t place. Sure he was flattered by the attention but a mech that tried this hard clearly either had something wrong with him or was desperate and those were exactly the type of mechs he wished to avoid.

“Stay cool.” Ironhide murmured as Jazz approached their table. “Be yourself.”

“I believe that’s what got us into this mess.” Prowl whispered, falling quiet as Jazz stopped short of the table.

“Hey um… thanks but no thanks.” Jazz offered the bottle back to Prowl who glanced up calmly.

“Is there a problem with the high grade?” He asked simply.

“No… Look, I don’t know what you’re after but I’m not interested.” Jazz responded coldly.

Prowl managed an impassive shrug, glancing momentarily at Ironhide. “I merely wanted to offer a symbol of truce so to speak. I believe we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Is this another apology because mech, seriously—“

“—Why would I apologise, Jazz?” Prowl tilted his helm curiously. “As you pointed, I have done nothing wrong.”

Frowning, shifting from one foot to the other, Jazz looked between Prowl and Ironhide. “So… this is just a gesture then, doesn’t mean anything?”

“Well, I admit to enjoying your music, you may accept it as a gift from a fan if that appeals more to you.” Prowl replied innocently.

“No strings?”

“It’s just high grade, Jazz.” Giving the black and white a small smile, Prowl took a sip from his cube. “I would have thought that simply being gracious about it would be the due course of action.”

Nodding and frowning even deeper, Jazz clicked hesitantly. “Alright well… thanks… my band and I… appreciate the support.”

“I’m glad to be of service.”

Turning to head back, Jazz paused momentarily and glanced over his shoulder. “If you like um… you and your friend are welcome to share a cube with us, after the gig. It’s expensive stuff, be a shame not to share.”

Prowl opened his mouth, fully intending to turn down the offer before Ironhide beat him to the punch.

“We’ll be there.”

Giving them a nod of acknowledgement, Jazz disappeared in the crowds.

“What did you do that for?!” Prowl stared at his partner, sensory panels fluttering anxiously.

“Relax, Prowl. Unlike you, some of us know what we’re doing.” The red mech simply grinned cheekily at the dark glower burning into his helm from across the table.

****  
Their mouths crushed together hungrily, eager for more of the other, their glossa entwining, sliding over the other’s as soft moans escaped their vocalisers. The cool walls of the back room were a welcome presence to their heated frames as they pressed up against it, hips grinding together setting sparks dancing over the plating as metal ground against metal.  
Intakes hitched and cooling fans whirred noisily as clever black and white hands explored and searched for the most sensitive parts. Jazz’s helm rocked back as Prowl found a particular sensitive bundle of cabling and tweaked it playfully. “Oh Primus…” He gasped, grabbing Prowl’s helm and claiming another deep, hungry kiss.

Prowl growled lowly when daring hands began to stroke and caress his sensory panels, causing them to flutter uncontrollably and his whole frame to arch into Jazz. His fingers curled into Jazz’s plating as the smaller mech took the opportunity to dip his helm towards his throat and mouth teasingly over the cabling in his throat, biting at them only to lav over the pierced metal with his glossa, eliciting a soft keen from the Praxian.  
Neither mech really recalled how they had gotten to this point. Ironhide had almost dragged Prowl over to the band’s table once they’d finished playing and Jazz had graciously poured them both a cube of the expensive high grade. Even Mirage remained to taste the delicacy and the conversation, between Bumblebee’s cheerful demeanour and Ironhide’s forthright confidence, was soon lubricated and flowing between the group smoothly.

Jazz had actually found himself relaxing a little in Prowl’s company as the enforcer interacted and engaged his friends in a way most mechs interested in him wouldn’t bother. Prowl’s friend was also a mech that enjoyed a good joke and didn’t pull his punches when it involved gently teasing his fellow enforcer. Jazz had laughed and towards the end of the night found himself chatting more intimately with Prowl as Ironhide, Blaster and Bumblebee played a strategy game, loudly and animatedly.

They’d learned a little more about each other and neither one had made a move to do more, unlike the previous night. It had been comfortable, easy, enjoyable with no pressure to be anything more than it needed to be. When the small group got louder and more raucous, Jazz suggested they move to their private room to talk, it was quieter and the seats were considerably more comfortable, especially for a Praxian’s sensory panels.

They’d shared a cube or two more and the two mechs had fallen into a comfortable silence once they’d run out of things to talk about. Both of their optics roamed and their smiles became more furtive and shy as the pleasant buzz of high grade helped their inhibitions lower.

It had been Prowl this time who had made the first move, he had only meant to kiss Jazz’s cheek, wish him goodnight and leave, but Jazz had turned his helm and their lips had brushed ever so slightly. It was the only contact they had needed.

Now; panting and moaning wantonly, Prowl’s optics flickered online as rational thought began to work its way through the haze of high grade. Jazz was making him feel so good, so very good and he wanted nothing more than to tug Jazz over to the softer sofa and interface with him until they both collapsed from exhaustion. The mech was simply addictive. Keening softly, he gently peeled Jazz’s hands from his frame, his optics looking into that visor in earnest. “Jazz… we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” Jazz frowned in confusion. “Were you not enjoying it?”

Prowl managed a nod, his helm resting against Jazz’s as he tried to calm himself down in spite of his arousal. “Very much but… I don’t want a repeat of last cycle… if we do this now, you’re just going to think this is what I wanted all along.”

“I won’t.” Jazz protested, leaning in closer to nip at Prowl’s lip components slowly, trying to entice the mech into carrying on.

“We can’t do this… not like this.”

“C’mon, Prowler… what’s your problem?” Jazz growled, feeling his frustration – fuelled by over charge and lust – growing.

“My problem is that neither one of us are sober and if we’re to be intimate then I don’t want it to be just a passing thing. I don’t appreciate being kicked out of a berth like a used pleasure-bot after we’re done.”

Visor flickering darkly, Jazz withdrew. Prowl’s words felt like a slap in the face. As much as he always tried to avoid the consequences he had always known what he did was using mechs for his own pleasure, even if they did get something out of it. Not one of them had ever bothered to point it out quite so succinctly before though. “Get out.” He muttered sullenly, looking away from Prowl.

“Jazz please… can we talk about this?” Prowl insisted, not pulling away.

Embarrassed and frustrated, Jazz shoved Prowl in the chest hard. “I said get out!” He glared at Prowl angrily. “You don’t want this fine. I’ll find someone who does.”

Stunned at the abrupt change in the smaller mech and his harsh words, Prowl couldn’t keep the confused hurt from flickering across his face, before scowling deeply. Without a word he swept out of the room and was gone faster than Jazz could reach the door of the room. The slightest glimpse of a retreating sensory panel was the only thing Jazz saw as Prowl vacated the bar. Glancing over at his friends with Ironhide, he caught all their optics looking at him questioningly and in Ironhide’s case; accusingly. Not wanting to deal with their questions, however silent; Jazz slammed the door and retreated to the back exit, escaping for his apartment a few short kliks later.

****  
Lying on his berth Jazz glared up at the ceiling. His visor had been removed and his frame still buzzed in a mix of high grade and arousal. Despite trying not to think about the black and white enforcer, Jazz’s processor played over the night in his mind. They had gotten so heated so quickly, the Praxian was surprisingly passionate given his demeanour and Jazz soon found himself craving more of the mech.

Growling softly, his hands wandered over his own frame, imagining that they were Prowl’s hands exploring his body. He offlined his optics and picture the enforcer leaning over him, his hot frame pressing into him. Slipping lower Jazz pawed slowly over his panel and moaned when the metal retracted automatically. He hadn’t gotten this worked up in a long time.

Fingers curled about his length, gently pumping it in slow even strokes, massaging over the embedded sensor nodes and he moaned wantonly. Lifting his hand up he suckled hungrily at two fingers before wrapping them around his spike, squeezing the hard component teasingly. In his mind he could picture Prowl nestled between his thighs, his warm, slick mouth squeezing him, tasting him, humming over his length.

Panting as pleasure rushed through his circuits, Jazz began to pump faster and with his free hand gently slipped a digit into his already very lubricated entrance. His moans and whimpers filled the room as he carefully stretched his valve and buried two digits deep inside himself, scissoring them deliciously, rubbing over sensor nodes.

He moved his hands alternately, creating a feedback of clashing pleasure signals throughout his body and he kept going as the charge built up until it reached an explosive peak and his helm was thrown back in a needy cry, Prowl’s name escaping the black and white’s lips as he writhed in ecstasy on his berth.

Right at that very moment, in his own apartment; Prowl’s helm was resting against cool tiles, his entire frame shuddering from release as he keened desperately, hands trembling as they slowly pulled away from overly stimulated components.

The hot solvent wash cascaded over his frame and evaporated almost immediately as it fell onto his plating, which was cracking and sparking with excess energy release. Offlining his optics, his intakes panting softly, Prowl pressed his pleasured frame against the cool wall, turning as he slowly sank to the floor, relishing the cleanliness of the solvent shower. He mewled quietly and Jazz’s name formed a needy whisper on his lips.


	3. Terms

“Th’ frag’s wrong with you, Prowl?” The bulky red mech growled beside the black and white enforcer, his arms folded, his faceplates creased into a frown.

“As always, Ironhide, you have a way with words.” Prowl replied smoothly, quirking an optic ridge at his partner and friend.

Ironhide let out a huff of air. “S’my job. Well…?” He grunted, glaring at the officer firmly.

“Well, what?” Came the succinct reply.

“Cut the slag and tell me what’s crawled up your tail pipe and died.” Ironhide caught Prowl’s arm just as he was about to step onto the transport shuttle. “What happened last night?” 

Frowning at the mech, Prowl sighed softly. “We… had a disagreement that is all, now if you don’t mind, we do have work to do.”

Ironhide frowned in confusion. “Looked like more than that to me.”

“Please, Ironhide.” Prowl gave the red mech a sparing look before looking away quickly. “Let it go.”

“I can have words with him…” Ironhide’s scowl transformed into something darker and he slapped Prowl on the back amicably, causing the Praxian to stumble slightly at the unexpected force. Ironhide was a heavy handed mech on a good day. “Or I can reformat him into a glitch mouse if you give me the nod.” The red mech continued, ignoring Prowl’s pointed glare as they stepped onto the transport. 

“I do not wish to talk about it.” Prowl replied tersely. “Nor do I wish you to ‘have words’. I know full well what that entails with you.” 

“Riiight.” Ironhide’s growled. “So that slagger really got under your plating huh? Never known a ‘bot to have rattled your bolts like this. I don’t like it”

“Ironhide, please!” Prowl exclaimed, his optics bright at the remark. Air cycling loudly through his vents as Ironhide gave him the ‘I’m not going to quit until you talk to me’ look. “Do you not have anything better to do other than discuss my personal life?”

Snorting ungainly, Ironhide leaned against the bulkhead of the transport with a casual shrug. “Frag no, when a mech gets you this tense and worked up, especially after I’ve spent vorns just cracking through that shell of yours...I make it my business.”

“Hardly.” Prowl retorted grumpily, his processor ache creeping slowly back into his helm. 

Ironhide raised his orbital ridges at the sardonic comment and shot Prowl a knowing look. “Something you’re not telling me? Did he do something?”

Sighing and claiming the nearest seat wearily, the previous night’s events catching up with him, Prowl shook his helm. “It’s nothing, really. And I’ll thank you to stop being so astute.”

Ironhide shook his helm and grunted non-committally. “Yeah, like I buy that. Come on, Prowl. We’re on the job and we’re partners.” He jabbed a finger at the currently scowling Praxian. “Your processor isn’t in the game so spill it before I go ask Jazz.”

****  
Jazz sipped his morning energon with a scowl. His frame ached from the night before that Praxian high grade packed quite a kick. Casting his mind back the black and white smirked as he remembered his first encounter with Prowl. He had been one of the best berth partners to date and had taken Jazz a little by surprise. That wasn’t something that happened every cycle. An uptight enforcer like Prowl obviously was, shouldn’t have known moves like that in the berth. Not that Jazz was complaining of course, he had quite enjoyed the surprise, very much in fact. His smile faded as other thoughts clouded his processor.

He’d only ever been surprised a few times in the past, they were not memories he cared for so when Prowl had insisted that they take things slow, Jazz hadn’t really known how to take it. Nobody had ever wanted to go slow with him, not without having some ulterior motive. Gulping down his energon, Jazz chucked the cube into the trash and sighed softly. He had felt a little bad that he’d once again kicked Prowl to the curb. At the end of the cycle, Jazz wasn’t a mech that cared to be tied down. He had his fun and he moved on. It hadn’t always been that way. When Jazz learned his lessons, he learnt them well. Making sure that the other mechs and femmes knew exactly where they stood with him was the least he could do, even if he had to be a little cruel to do it. It wasn’t like he ever saw any of them again so as far as he was concerned, no harm done. Everybody got on with their lives. Prowl would realise that soon enough, there was no way the mech would be coming back now, not after the way he’d practically fled from him the night before.

Heading out the door, Jazz was greeted by the mechs who had been his band mates from the previous night. “Ready to get to work, ‘Raj?” The black and white grinned cheerfully, slapping the blue mech’s shoulder on his way past.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” The noble pursed his lips in disapproval and his optics flicked over Jazz’s slightly scuffed paintwork. “See you had fun, Praxian looked like he had rocket fuel up his aft the way he ran out of here. Did you finally scare him off?”

Not fazed by the former noble’s seemingly haughty retorts, Jazz just shrugged. “Mech had enough; they always do ‘Raj.” His visor winked at the taller mech. “Is Blaster up? I could use some of his polish.”

“Mm, he’s waiting for you at the stage.” Mirage cast Jazz a sidelong look. “Good job his colour scheme was virtually the same as yours, hm?”

“Hey, the mech chose me. Who am I to say no?” Jazz’s engine revved once, as he chuckled at Mirage’s grunt of disdain.

“Cool it ‘Raj. Kinda mech do you take me for?” Jazz frowned slightly as a red mech approached them.

“One who was sloppy this time.” Mirage countered, ignoring the soft growl from the black and white.

Blaster strolled up to them and glared at Jazz. “What were you thinking?”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Jazz frowned at the two mechs. “Somebody wanna tell me what’s going on before I really get fragged off?”

“You get fragged off!” Blaster exclaimed, rubbing his face in frustration. “He was an enforcer, Jazz!”

“So… not like I haven’t ‘faced one before.” Jazz tilted his helm quizzically.

Sighing, Blaster shook his helm and groaned. “And yet you decide to frag him off… again. Look, Jazz, I’m your friend, but I’m getting tired of watching you self destruct when a decent mech shows genuine interest.” 

“Hey!” Jazz butted in, his faceplates contorted into an angry glare. “I do not compromise our performances alright. So the mech was an enforcer, so what? He’s a grown mech; he knew what he was getting into. 

“Yeah, Jazz… you keep telling yourself that if it helps you recharge at night.” Blaster replied in defeat, shoving the polish into Jazz’s hand. “You’re going to need this before our next show.”

“What’s your problem, mech?” Jazz responded curtly.

“My point is that you happen to choose an enforcer Captain upon a whim to ‘face into your berth and then discard like a used energon cube. Which normally I wouldn’t have a problem with but…we have to work here, Jazz… I don’t want to have to move again!” Blaster grumbled as he fiddled with his musical instrument. “Besides I actually enjoyed Ironhide’s company but you would be too wrapped up in your own tangled mess to see that.” 

“Aw slag…” Jazz’s voice was a defeated murmur, his shoulders slightly wilted as Blaster looked away. All Jazz ever asked Primus for when performing in a new place was; that it not be complicated.

****

For Prowl it had been a trying day. There had been two more cases of their serial killer case and he’d assigned enforcers to work with each member of the new recruits, get them up to speed, stop them from getting themselves killed, not that the special ops mechs were pleased about it mind you. More than once his commander in chief had marched into Prowl’s office demanding to know his justifications which Prowl logically provided in a much calmer manner than was requested. Each time, the mech calmed, grunted and left, his helm already focused back on the case in hand. That had just been his first cycle.

“Prowl, if you don’t go and talk to him, I will.”

Snapping his helm to scowl darkly at his partner, Prowl sat back in his chair. “That was not what I was thinking about—“ He started weakly.

Ironhide grunted and stretched before heading for the door. “I can hear your thoughts from over here. Just talk to him. He’s a grown mech, could just be a misunderstanding.” He gave Prowl a sympathetic smile. “I’m beat. Calling it a cycle. Try to ‘charge in your own berth tonight, mech.” He added with a teasing wink, waving at the cold glare he received in return.

Gritting his denta, Prowl nodded to himself firmly. Ironhide was right, if nothing else he had to clear the air. Maybe it all had been a misunderstanding.

Inhaling deeply, Prowl began searching through Praxian citizen records. If he was going to do this, he decided he was doing it on his terms this time. After a few short cycles, Prowl found what he was looking for and opened his comm.. channel.

****

Moving quickly through the streets, Prowl halted at his destination and slowed his intakes, he didn’t even know if Jazz had agreed to his request, he had made sure the transmission had been one way. Stepping inside the quiet abode he nodded to the femme who recognised him and greeted him with a bright smile. 

“Enforcer Prowl, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Been a while.” The femme smiled at him, setting up his usual table before stopped her with a gently touch to her arm. 

“I won’t be sitting at my usual spot this time, would you mind setting up that one.” He pointed to the table by the window. “For two…” He added softly. 

The femme faltered and smiled nudging Prowl playfully. “Do you have a date, Prowl?” 

Flicking his sensor panels just once, Prowl looked to the table thoughtfully. “That remains to be seen.”

****

Jazz’s voice crooned through the club as he sang the last verse of their final song. The night had been a good one and there had not been one enforcer on scene. For some inexplicable reason, Jazz found that that concerned him. There were always enforcers in this particular club; it aimed most of its entertainment at that particular brand of clientele. Maybe they were just busy. His thoughts wandered as he casually scanned through the crowd, his sharp optics picking up a flash of white plating. He tracked it through the crowd his hope surging until the mech turned. Deflated, Jazz carried on singing, internally berating his own disappointment. Did he want to see Prowl again? Was he really that much of a narcissist that he simply craved the attention? Even as he thought it, Jazz didn’t really believe it, there was just something about Prowl’s nature, his persistence that had intrigued him and despite himself, Jazz found himself wanting more of his company.

Bumblebee and Blaster shot each other a concerned look as Jazz suddenly trailed off in the middle of their song, his helm canting slightly to the side as if he was listening to something nobody else could hear. Scowling, Mirage stepped forward and lightly swatted Jazz’s helm, receiving a dirty look in return. Covering up the gap in the music successfully with an instrumental break, Jazz picked up the last few lyrics and improvised, letting his voice fade away with the slowing music. 

The band members swapped looks of confusion as the black and white darted off stage before even the last note was played and vanished into their private rooms. 

“I’m not picking up the pieces this time.” Mirage scoffed. “He decided to play around with another enforcer. I’m not getting in the middle of that again.”

Bumblebee prodded the taller mech hard and glared up at him. “You know what happened wasn’t his fault. Jazz didn’t want to involve any of us last time but we’re friends and friends look out for each other. Or had you forgotten that?” The minibot marched off stage after Jazz leaving Mirage looking mildly contrite and Blaster shaking his helm with a disapproving click.

“Sometimes you’re a royal aft, ‘Raj.” 

The noble muttered quietly and sauntered off to the bar, leaving Blaster sighing wearily in his wake.

****

Gently touching Jazz’s shoulder as he came to a stop behind the mech now sitting on the steps leading from the exit of the building, Bumblebee crouched down beside him. “What happened?” He asked quietly.

Jazz shook his helm. “Mech got my private comm. channel. Sent me a message, no reply allowed, just a place and a time. What kind of mech does that!?” He exclaimed in frustration.

Bumblebee grinned faintly and nudged his friend. “A persistent one with resources?” He laughed lightly. “Sometimes, Jazz you’re blinder than most. Even with those modified optics of yours.”

“Whatever… m’not going.” Jazz muttered sullenly.

“Why not?” The minibot asked casually. “It’s not a seedy place where he can trap you and demand your spark is it?”

“No.” Jazz pulled a face in derision of the smaller mech’s light mocking tone. “It’s a quiet place, respectable even.”

Bumblebee shrugged and pushed to his feet. “Well that’s an end to that then.”

“Huh?” 

The minibot shrugged and headed back inside. “You’d never be seen dead in a respectable place.” He chuckled quietly at Jazz’s resounding rev of his engine, shutting out the rest of his protest as he closed the door behind him. Smiling to himself, Bumblebee headed back out to the stage. 

“How is he?” Blaster asked quickly, his face full of concern. 

“Eh, I think he’ll be fine… probably not going to see him for the rest of the night though so best to leave him be.” The minibot nodded with a bright smile. “Let’s get a drink; I think we’ve earned it.”

****

Prowl looked up when a shadow fell over his table and his optics visibly brightened. “I didn’t think you’d come…” He started softly.

“You and me both.” Jazz replied quietly, looking about him as the waitress came over with a menu for him. Nodding to her politely, Jazz slid into the seat opposite Prowl catching the Praxian’s gaze briefly before both mechs looked away and sat in awkward silence.

“The sweet ener-tea is quite pleasant.” Prowl stated quietly, glancing at Jazz as the smaller mech perused through the menu. 

Jazz looked up and pointed at Prowl’s cube. “That it?” 

Prowl nodded.

“May I?”

“By all means.” Prowl waited as Jazz sipped at his cube and hummed in approval. The femme standing by their table smiled at him warmly and took Jazz’s order, finally leaving them in peace.

“So what’s this about, Prowl?” Jazz scanned the small establishment. “I can tell you haven’t brought me here to get me overcharged.”

“I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?”

“Mm,” Prowl inclined his helm in acknowledgement. “It’s somewhat difficult to do if we are otherwise occupied.” He replied demurely, catching the flicker of Jazz’s visor at his words.

Pursing his lip components, Jazz accepted his warm cube graciously and cupped it in his hands, optics fixed on the phosphorous liquid swirling in the rigid container. “So talk.”

Inhaling slowly, Prowl leaned forward in his seat slightly and clasped his hands in front of him, vorns of interview and interrogator training prepared him for speaking his mind but nothing in all his time of being an enforcer had prepared him for speaking from his spark. “I am interested in you.” He stated calmly, his own voice surprising him in the quiet of the humble café. “I can’t explain it and I tell you the truth when I tell you I have no ulterior motive.” Shaking his helm with a soft sigh, Prowl looked away for a kill, his voice dropping to a lowly murmur. “I don’t know what happened to you that forced you to keep people at arms length, nor will I ever ask you.” Looking back to Jazz with earnest intent in his optics, Prowl met his gaze steadily. “That is only for you to tell when you are ready to tell it. I simply want to know you better, Jazz. All I’m asking for is that chance.” Sitting back into his seat, his lips curling up at the corner into a soft smile. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised by how good it feels to actually feel wanted and respected for who you are.” 

Jazz remained silent for a while after Prowl finished speaking, his drink going untouched as he mulled over the Praxian’s words. 

As time wore on, Prowl shifted in his seat. “Perhaps I should go…” 

“Wait.” Jazz replied softly, his gaze focused on the table. “I don’t want t’ know how you seem to know so much about me. I tell you now, it makes me uneasy, I can’t figure you out, Prowl.” 

Meeting Jazz’s optics with his own, Prowl smiled subtly. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

“M’not sure yet.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to find out for yourself rather than knowing everything straight away?” Ducking his helm slightly, Prowl sighed softly. “I don’t take interest in just anyone, Jazz and as for knowing about you, I am an enforcer.”

Jazz huffed and grinned slightly at Prowl. “You know what they say about those with great power…”

Smirking mildly, Prowl’s sensory panels twitched up as he raised an optic ridge at the black and white mech. “You have my word to only use my powers for good.”

“Yeah.” Jazz chuckled softly, relaxing somewhat in Prowl’s present. “I don’t doubt that.” 

With the tension broken, the two mechs sat and talked into the night. Cybertronian nights were fairly mild but rarely they broke into a fluke acid rain storm which sent mechs ducking for cover. Thankfully inside when one broke out, Jazz and Prowl continued to learn little bits about each other, growing ever more comfortable with one another as the night drew to a close. 

Glancing through the window, Prowl hummed thoughtfully. “Looks like the storm has broken. Maybe we should call it a night?” 

Jazz nodded, surprised for the second time that solar cycle by his own reluctance. “Yeah....I have another gig to prepare for next solar.” 

Getting to his feet and paying the waitress, Prowl led the way outside, frowning curiously at Jazz’s snicker of laughter as he fell into step beside him. “What may I ask is so amusing?” 

“Mech you just paid for my drinks and the goodies I decided to eat. I think you just turned this into a first date.” Peering at Prowl coyly through his visor, Jazz gave a slight shrug. “But I have a feeling that’s what you going for all along.”

Prowl opened his mouth to respond only to be cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Looking up sharply, he quickly grabbed Jazz’s hand and broke into a sprint. 

“Whoa, mech. It was a joke!! Prowl, what is it?” 

“Rain, Jazz. My plating is coated to protect me, but it’s specific to enforcers.”

Jazz winced as the first few drops of rain landed on his plating, punctuating Prowl’s words. 

“My home is closer. Run!” Prowl barked, making sure to keep a tight hold of Jazz’s hand.

****

Sitting gingerly on the firm yet comfortable cushions of Prowl’s sofa, Jazz hissed as the Praxian gently wiped down his plating with a soft cloth, making sure to clean his frame of any remaining acid rain droplets. “I’m sorry; I should have been more vigilant with the forecast.” He murmured contritely.

Jazz shook his helm, turning away to hide a wince of pain as Prowl brushed over the exposed sensor nodes that had gotten burnt by the acid. “S’alright, Prowl. You can’t control everything.”

“I can get you a transport?”

“Nah…I’ll make my way back when it clears.” Jazz flexed his joints, grateful for the pain relieving salve Prowl massaged over the damaged parts of his plating. Getting to his feet and peering out of Prowl’s window, Jazz sighed softly. “Can’t last much longer, can it?”

Prowl gave an uncharacteristic shrug as he tidied up his first aid kit. “I have known some storms to last several solar cycles.” He replied with an unspoken apology once again colouring his tone.

Nodding Jazz swore softly rubbing his helm tiredly. “Well looks like it’s not going to ease tonight.” 

Prowl stood in his kitchen area, watching Jazz hesitantly. “You’re welcome to stay here…” 

Meeting Prowl’s gaze and glancing around the neat, humble apartment, Jazz’s optics fell onto the sofa. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“It’s no imposition.” Prowl offered him a faint reassuring smile. “Really. I’d rather know you were here than out there.”

“Such a charmer.” Jazz grinned again hoping to ease the quiet tension building between them as he approached the sofa, sitting down. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt for Prowl any longer as he watched the Praxian gather a blanket for him. When Prowl drew closer, Jazz grasped the mech’s arm and gently tugged him closer, not thinking twice before pressing his lips against Prowl’s, receiving a surprised mewl in return.

Pulling back slightly, Prowl looked at him searchingly. “Jazz… I thought we agreed…? We were to get to know each other first.”

“I’d say this is getting to know you pretty well, Prowl.” He smirked in amusement, pulling Prowl down to sit beside him. “I promise I’ll go slow.”

Leaning back against the sofa as Jazz pressed closer it took all of Prowl’s resolve to gently push the smaller mech back, his systems already running hot by his proximity to him. “No… I made you a promise… I intend to keep it… I’m not doing this your way, Jazz… I’m sorry.” Getting to his feet quickly, Prowl’s sensory panels rose up on his back, going rigid as he cycled air through his vents slowly in an effort to cool his frame.

Jazz frowned and sank his helm into the soft cushion, muttering softly. “Yeah… you’re probably right. Bad idea. Might see things clearer in the morning.”

Straightening Prowl hovered as Jazz got to his feet. “About seeing things more clearer…” He started, frowning slightly. “Last night—“

“—Prowl look, we’ve had a good night and I’ve had fun but.... I didn’t know you were a lead enforcer on this city. If I had it wouldn’t have gone down like that, I can assure you.” Jazz interrupted, avoiding Prowl’s optics.

“You mean, it wouldn’t have happened?” Prowl asked quietly.

“Something like that, yeah.” Jazz replied with a shrug. “It’s nothing personal; Prowl just a rule I have. Got mixed up with enforcers before if you catch my drift?” He offered a wane grin, only for it to fade at the vaguely pained expression on Prowl’s face.

“I believe that it’s already too late for it not to get personal.” Prowl stated mildly, folding his arms.

Jazz sighed and sat back down regarding Prowl with a cold glare as he perched on the edge of his sofa. “So what’re you saying, Prowl? You wanna frag some more? Because Primus you’re a good lay and it was fun so I’m game if you are.”

Optics flickering at the sudden change in tone and abrupt forward nature of the smaller black and white, Prowl didn’t respond straight away as his processor tried to work out what angle Jazz was really coming from. “I was another conquest for you.” He concluded after a few kliks, nodding in understanding. “I see.” He gave Jazz an unreadable expression, bland.

Jazz frowned at the taller mech now making a hasty retreat from the room. He disliked mixed signals and unspoken tension. It was a distraction he could do well without. “What the frag’s your deal, Prowl? I’ve been straight with you.” He called out, stopping Prowl in his tracks. “In case you’ve forgotten, you sought me out. Last night and tonight, what’s your angle, Prowler?”

Meeting Jazz’s hard glare, Prowl flicked his sensory panels up and out in irritation. “I sought you out in order to get to know you better, thinking maybe you might like me more than just another conquest in your berth.” He replied, noting with satisfaction the glimmer of surprise in Jazz’s visor. “I do not make a habit of spending the night with someone I’ve just met and I didn’t want to leave things unsaid if I have unwittingly offended you by giving into my interest in you. I apologise for giving you the wrong impression as to my intentions as I have clearly misread yours.” Turning and heading into his room, Prowl hesitated at the door. “Have a good recharge, Jazz… I do not hold out any expectations of seeing you in the morning.”

Jazz pulled a face in confusion. “Prowler, hold up.”

Venting air impatiently, Prowl regarded the smaller mech coolly. “Jazz?”  
“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not used to getting to know those I’ve berthed with, that’s all.”

“That much is obvious.” Prowl raised an optic ridge at Jazz, who looked at best; uncomfortable.

“Fresh start?” Jazz answered simply. “How about I try it your way, take you up on your offer, and make up for the poor treatment of the other night and tonight and last night... That is… if you still want to?”

“I have no objections.” Prowl replied softly.

The evening was a fairly subdued one in comparison to the previous night, something which Prowl was thankful for as he and Jazz conversed casually over a cube of high grade. They discussed fairly neutral matters; the job, how they got into their respective line of work. Very mundane but for Prowl it was more he knew about Jazz than he had the night before and that put his spark at ease. 

Jazz, when he was not trying to seduce him was very casual and easy going and made Prowl feel at ease as they picked up their conversation from the café and Jazz joked with him as though they were old friends. Yet there was something he couldn’t place about the smaller black and white mech as they talked through the early cycles of the coming solar. Prowl felt he was only just brushing the surface of the mech that was Jazz and that only made him want to know more.

When their conversation fell into a comfortable silence, Prowl found his chance. “About last night…”

Jazz’s visor flickered noticeably in the dim light as he sipped his second cube. “Yeah?”

“I have to ask, was it something I did?”

Head tilting at Prowl, Jazz frowned slightly. “Oh you mean when I threw you out… again?”

“It was unexpected to say the least.” Prowl replied quietly, ducking his gaze slightly. “If I offended you—“

“—You didn’t offend me, Prowler. Don’t worry about it, mech.

“So you enjoyed our time together…?” Prowl left the question hanging, his sensory panels fluttering when Jazz laughed loudly.

“Frag yeah! Are you kidding me?” Finishing off his cube, Jazz’s visor glowed suggestively at the enforcer as the high grade made his circuits tingle pleasantly. “You got no problems there, mech.”

Mildly embarrassed at Jazz’s reaction, Prowl offered a faint smile. “Comforting.” Finishing off his high grade, Prowl pushed up out of his seat. “It’s getting late; I have enjoyed this evening, thank you, Jazz.”

“No problem.” Jazz grinned. “You know for tight aft, you’re not half bad, Prowler.” Jazz chuckled as Prowl stood.

“Why do you call me that?” Prowl asked quizzically.

“Prowler? It’s your name.” Jazz shrugged absently.

“My name is Prowl.” The enforcer replied lightly, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement. “Do you deliberately get my name wrong in order to put me off wanting to get to know you?”  
“Is it working?” Jazz smirked, changing the subject quickly. “You should smile more, Prowler.” Jazz winked casually. “You’d make more friends.”

“I only smile when I have something to smile about.” Prowl replied softly, catching Jazz’s hand before he escaped into his room. “Maybe you just bring that out in me.”

Intakes hitching at the contact slightly, Jazz’s smile had all but vanished as he looked at Prowl’s hand curled around his own. “I thought we were going to be slow about this.” He spoke quietly, avoiding Prowl’s gaze.

“I am merely holding your hand, Jazz… though, I have to ask… Why did you take me to your berth that first night?” Prowl tilted his helm, his free hand coming up to Jazz’s face to turn his gaze towards him gently. “Am I really just another conquest for you? Or is inviting me to drink with you, your way of reaching out?”

“Don’t do this, Prowl. I can’t do this.”

Not removing his hand from Jazz’s face, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of his cheek, Prowl moved closer. “Why?” He pushed the matter further. “Do you deny that you enjoy my company?”

Shaking his helm just once, Jazz gave Prowl a stern look. “I didn’t say that, mech, don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Is it because I’m an enforcer?”

“I’m telling you, don’t go there, Prowl.” Jazz insisted, yet unable to tear his hand or face away from Prowl’s gentle contact, their optics level as he stood to face him properly.

“Already did.” Prowl whispered. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t normally become intimate with someone I’ve just met. I prefer to know them first; you however, took me by surprise. I don’t like being made a fool of, Jazz.” Prowl stated quietly, his earnest optics studying Jazz’s face closely. “Is it a game to you?”

“No!” Jazz retorted. “It was one night, Prowl. Wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“But it did and here we are.” Prowl shook his helm and leaned closer, feeling Jazz freeze to the spot as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, relishing the faint whine escaping Jazz’s vocaliser, before pulling a respectable distance away. “Forgive me if I’m too forward, but I was interested in you before who I knew who you were and I’m still interested. If you had thought about your actions before inviting me to your berth, you would probably be free of what you very likely consider a burden but you didn’t and I am making my intentions very clear to you. All you have to do is to say stop but I don’t give up easily.”

“Yeah I bet you don’t.” Jazz muttered sullenly, his shoulders wilting in defeat to his hidden desires raging just under the surface at the proximity of the Praxian, who inexplicably got his frame hot like no other. “So are we just going to stand here talking, or is this how you seduce a ‘bot into your berth?” Jazz grinned faintly, trying desperately to ease the hard pulsing of his spark

“Please don’t mistake my reluctance for a lack of desire for you but,” Prowl drew away and gave a polite shake of his helm, his smile soft yet contrite. “Only you can decide to trust me, Jazz and I will not share a berth with you again until you do.”

“Sure of yourself.”

“I am observant. I recognise quality when I see it.” Prowl replied with a small smile before turning and walking into his own berth room. “Maybe you will think twice in future about jumping in the berth with a mech you have just met.” He added softly, closing the door between them.


	4. Old Flame

Jazz was excited. He shot up out of his berth and started getting ready immediately. His creators were so proud that he’d made something for himself and had found the love of another. A sweetspark. Inspecting his plating in the mirror, Jazz hummed appreciatively. Today would be rehearsals then the next solar cycle would be the big day. He could barely contain his excitement. He rushed to the door when it pinged for his attention. “Hi!” He greeted brightly, hugging both of his creators warmly before inviting them in.

 

“Well somebody is excited.” His Sire grinned. “All set for rehearsals?” 

“Am I ever?” Jazz replied, gathering his outfit and nodding to his creators. “Let’s go. He’s going to meet us there.” He smiled, almost skipping out of his apartment. 

 

Leaning into his bonded, Jazz’s Sire held back and hummed thoughtfully. “He’s meeting us there?” 

 

Patting his arm lightly, Jazz’s creator smiled thinly and gave a slight shrug. “He’s an enforcer, love. I’m sure everything will be fine. Come on let’s go, before Jazz runs the whole way there.”

 

“You’re right of course.” Jazz’s Sire mumbled humbly, his optics trailing after his only creation, his happiness helping to quell the doubt bubbling quietly in his spark. 

 

****

Jazz felt like he was floating as his friends greeted him and he made preparations. Nobody had ever thought that Jazz the performer, the free spirit would ever settle down but here he was planning his own bonding ceremony. His comm. channel pinged and Jazz answered it immediately, his spark fluttering in his chest when his lover’s voice came through the line. 

 

//Jazz! I’m glad I caught you. How are the preparations going?//

 

//Good, good. No hitches so far.” Jazz smiled. “When can we expect you?//

//Well, that’s why I called. There’s been an incident at work, you know how it is, enforcer stuff. I’m probably not going to make it to rehearsal but I’ll see you at home at the end of the solar, alright. Let me know how it goes. I’m sorry, Jazzy.//

 

Jazz’s smile froze on his face, visor dimming in disappointment. //Yeah, alright. Don’t worry about it; I know how important your work is. I’ll see you later.// The line went dead and Jazz vented air slowly through his vents. This was something he would have to get used to when he finally bonded to an enforcer. 

 

“Hey, Jazz?” Mirage called out coolly, his piercing gaze looking searchingly at his friend. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, mech.” Jazz smiled brightly and went to join the growing group of friends and family. “Everything’s just fine.”

 

The rehearsal itself went off without a hitch. Jazz explained why his bonded to be wasn’t present and insisted that the rehearsal went on as planned.

 

Mirage had scowled his way through the practice ceremony and pulled Blaster to one side afterwards. “I have a hunch that I need to investigate. Keep an optic on Jazz for me?”

 

Blaster frowned at his friend. “What’s on your processor? Don’t ruin this for Jazz. I know you don’t trust his mate to be but its Jazz’s choice remember? He’s not a fool.”

 

“I know.” Mirage replied quietly. “Just need to clarify something for tomorrow. And isn’t it odd that his oh so perfect enforcer Captain couldn’t obtain cover for this most important of occasions?”

 

Giving a defeated shrug, Blaster looked over at Jazz chatting animatedly with Bumblebee and his creators. “As long as he shows next solar, that’s all that matters.”

 

“That remains to be seen.” Mirage uttered, vanishing before Blaster could tell him to be careful. Sighing softly, Blaster shook his helm, Jazz’s mate’s absence at many important events to Jazz didn’t sit well with him but Jazz had made his choice and trusted the enforcer implicitly. It should have been enough for them too. Yet he couldn’t quell the niggling doubt and worry in his spark.

 

****

Jazz was curled up on his berth until late into the night. He always worried when his mate returned home so late. Always wondering if this would be the night two other enforcers would show up at his door with news he never wanted to hear. Lying on his berth, unable to recharge, his sharp audio picked up the sound of the door opening. His spark leapt in his chest as he saw the light get switched on and feet stop just outside his door. He wilted slightly when the feet moved away and the room went dark once more. Smiling to himself, Jazz wrapped himself in a warm blanket and ventured out into the living area. His lover probably hadn’t wanted to wake him.

 

“Oh hey, Jazzy. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

 

Jazz was greeted by his partner’s warm voice as he turned on the light, spotting his bonded to be in the kitchen area. “Did you get everything fixed at work?”

 

“I did yes, thankyou. Go back into recharge.”

 

“Can’t recharge.” Jazz murmured moving closer, frowning. “Are you not coming to rest?” 

 

“I’m still a bit charged from today’s shift, Jazz. You know how it is.” The enforcer smiled and cleared the room in a few steps to press a chaste kiss to Jazz’s nasal bridge. “Big solar cycle tomorrow, you should rest.” He grinned.

 

Jazz smiled sleepily and nodded, turning back towards their berth room. “Don’t be long, okay?”

 

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” The mech whispered softly, watching Jazz disappear into the dark room.

 

Jazz fell into recharge not long afterward, hoping that his mate to be would soon be curled about him. He loved recharging with him, it was contentment like no other he’d ever known and he couldn’t wait to start their life together. 

 

Before long, Jazz was awoken once more by gentle caresses down his back and a teasing glossa circling his sensitive audio receptors. He purred softly and pressed back into the warmth of his lover. A hand stroked his face and gently turned his helm to steal a tender kiss as he pressed closer, his hips grinding against Jazz’s aft slowly, building the friction between them. 

 

“Mm… feeling playful are we?” Jazz murmured with a fond smile, reaching up to curl a hand about his mate’s helm as they shared playful kisses. 

 

“Something like that.” The larger mech replied, his voice husky, filled with want for his mech. His hands slid over Jazz’s chest and down his midriff, teasing at playful seams, before ghosting over his hip, fingers stealing a playful squeeze of his aft, before sliding to the smooth metal of Jazz’s panel, letting his fingertips rest over the heated panel. 

 

Jazz moaned softly at the caresses, eager to return the favour but held in place as his mech leaned over him and nibbled the cabling of his neck. 

“Open for me, Jazzy.” The mech demanded softly, pressing a kiss to his audio. 

 

Complying, already quite worked up from his lover’s ministrations, Jazz gasped as cool air graced his hot components and eager fingers immediately began to stroke his length and tease his valve, smearing lubricants over them, chuckling as Jazz keened and mewled in pleasure. 

 

“So eager for me, lover.” 

 

“Nnghh, s’what you do to me.” Jazz panted softly, hips bucking into his mech’s hand as he dipped a fingertip just inside his quivering entrance. Shivering Jazz moaned and whispered a quiet ‘please’ to his mate, his components throbbing with need as he was pleasured slowly.

 

Smirking the larger mech, removed his hand and suckled his fingers with a lowly hum, leaning over Jazz to press him face first against the berth. “Your wish is my command, Jazzy.” He purred, lifting Jazz’s hips so they were in line with his own exposed components, his length already standing proud. Optics fixed on Jazz’s valve as he pulled the smaller mech up on to all fours, he pushed forward, his spike pushing into Jazz’s valve slowly, his mouth falling open with a silent moan as the hot valve clenched and stretched about him, squeezing his tingling length. Gripping Jazz’s hips tightly, he started to thrust, short shallow thrusts at first, letting his spike fully seat itself deep inside his mech. Oh he was going to enjoy this, Jazz was already whimpering like a pleasure bot beneath him as he began to drive his spike harder and faster into that slick, tight valve. 

 

Soon he was pounding his mate hard, relishing his cries of pleasure and grunts of pain as he fragged him hard. Pushing Jazz down flat to the berth, he lay flush atop him and continued his hard thrusts, grinding his hips wantonly as he felt his charge building rapidly. Jazz was positively wailing into the berth, his hands clenched into fists, tugging at the sheets as he writhed and keened beneath him.

 

Their energy fields flared and overload slammed into his mate with a single sharp thrust of his hips, his spike emptying its’ load of transfluid into Jazz’s quivering valve, forcing Jazz into his own overload with a piteous cry. Panting, the larger mech collapsed over Jazz and remained still for a moment before, pulling free of the trembling Jazz and lying beside him. He watched impassively as Jazz mewled and his visor faded to dark as his overload knocked him into light stasis. He’d still got it he thought to himself with a satisfied smirk. 

 

****

Waking the next solar cycle with a start, Jazz frowned as he patted the empty side of the berth. Calling out for his mate, he drifted into the living area and stopped in confusion. His mate to be was nowhere to be found and the sofa was suspiciously untouched. Moving towards the kitchen, Jazz spied a datapad on the counter top. Touching its’ screen his visor brightened as a single line flashed up before him. 

 

Jazz,

I can’t live a lie. I should never have promised to bond with you. I hope in time you can forgive me. Have a good life. 

All my love.

 

Jazz felt his intakes hitch as panic took hold of his spark, it couldn’t be. Why would he just leave, what had happened? Immediately calling the enforcer headquarters Jazz demanded to speak to his mate, his lover, his chosen, only to be told that he’d been fired from his job several cycles ago for inappropriate behaviour unbecoming of an enforcer. They hadn’t heard from him since.

 

Jazz killed the comm. when his door pinged urgently. That was what had roused him from recharge. Rushing to the door, he swung it open only to be greeted by the grim face of Mirage. 

 

“Jazz we need to talk.” 

 

****

Sitting up sharply, Jazz shoved the blanket from his frame that had been tangled about his limbs. His intakes panted as the memory purge replayed in his processor. Growling lowly and pinching his nasal bridge, Jazz rubbed his face and looked around him. Neat, tidy quarters, sparse, close to Praxus centre, he had stayed the night at Prowl’s. Glancing towards the dark room, Jazz frowned, why was he putting himself through this again? Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time? 

 

Pushing to his feet, he paced over to the window and peered out over the city. The view was quite beautiful, especially at dawn when the light bounced between the crystals, sending shimmers throughout the city. Praxus had been his fresh start. Following the cancellation of his bonding ceremony Jazz had thrown himself into his work and into high grade and ended up dealing with more enforcers than he’d ever wanted to. Quite often he’d gotten so overcharged he’d managed to cause trouble in the clubs his band performed in, usually getting them kicked out in the process. 

 

When push came to shove though, his friends had finally told him enough was enough. He could ‘face whoever he wanted, they would move with him wherever the work was and for the most part they’d stand by him but should he ever jeopardise their livelihood again they were through. That had been his friends’ ultimatum. Almost everyone else had turned their backs on him after he’d spiralled out of control in his grief and spark-break. Everyone but his band mates and his creators. 

 

Things between himself and Mirage had been frosty for a long while afterwards. Jazz had always suspected Mirage had something to do with his mate’s disappearance but when confronted with the overwhelming evidence of what his supposed bondmate to be had been up to on those ‘long shifts’ Jazz couldn’t hold it against him for too long if he had been involved. Mirage for all of his icy exterior, cared deeply about his friends and Jazz had been no exception to that. He had done what any friend would have done, not that he ever told them the exact details.

 

Just like Jazz would never tell anyone how he'd let that fragger 'face him that one last time, so naive he'd been in his trust, so foolish.

 

 

Sighing as he cast his mind back to the spectacular fight he and Mirage had gotten into after Jazz’s mate had abandoned him, Jazz tried to forget the whole thing. Turning back to Prowl’s room he mused over an idea that had popped into his processor. It was still late, Prowl wouldn’t be waking from recharge for work for a while yet, could Jazz trust him, did he want to? Was it worth going through all that pain again? 

 

Shaking his helm in frustration, Jazz remembered his first time with Prowl, the mech had been so attentive, tender, gentle and oh so good and yet there had been a vulnerability about him. Since then the enforcer had been more than persistent in his pursuit of him, did he really mean what he said about taking things slow, was any mech that patient?

 

Deciding to test the theory for himself, Jazz moved silently over to Prowl’s room and peered inside the dark quarters. He couldn’t help but smile as he spied Prowl curled up on his too large berth, sensor panels spread out behind him as he recharged on his side. Stepping silently closer, Jazz watched him for a few kliks longer. A recharging Prowl seemed devoid of so much responsibility and maturity, his face was younger, relaxed, even more handsome as a small smile tugged at his lip components.

 

Mind made up, Jazz slipped in-between the thin covers and shifted carefully over to Prowl’s side, he let out a soft sigh as he lay beside the enforcer, soaking up his warmth and calm, steady pulse of his spark beat thrumming beneath white plating. Reaching out a tentative hand, he lightly touched Prowl’s autobot emblem pulling back quickly when Prowl stirred. His visor brightened as the Praxian murmured in his recharge and one of the first words escaping from his parted lips was a whispered; ‘Jazz…’. 

 

Intakes stalling in surprise, Jazz suppressed a chuckle as Prowl casually draped an arm over him and snuggled up close, a faint purr rumbling through his frame as he sank deep into recharge. 

Feeling surprisingly safe and content in the gentle embrace of the black and white, his anxieties somewhat soothed by the quiet thrum of Prowl’s systems beside him; Jazz wasn’t far behind as he followed him into the dark.


	5. Untold secrets

Prowl let out a soft noise of contentment a small smile forming on his faceplates as he stretched languidly on his berth. Still in the groggy haze of recharge his lips parted with a quiet moan, his legs shifting against the comfortable padding catching and tugging the thin sheets. He hadn’t had such an arousing dream in vorns he thought to himself absently as heat pooled deliciously behind his closed interface panel. He could almost picture Jazz’s smiling face peering up at him as he lapped cheekily at the warming plating. It felt so good. He turned his helm with a sigh as his name was whispered softly into his audio.   
  
“Prowler… wake up, mech.” Jazz purred softly, his hand ghosting over Prowl’s panel, fingers teasing at the seams. Primus but the mech was delectable when he was relaxed like this. Jazz only hoped that he didn’t react badly to his advances.   
  
“Mm, Jazz…?” Prowl stirred and moaned softly, hips rising into his touches slowly. “What are you…?” His optics flickered online slowly and a small frown formed on his face plates. “Why are you in my berth…?” He asked sleepily.   
  
Jazz grinned and leaned forward, hesitating for just a klik before kissing Prowl slowly, glossa brushing insistently over Prowl’s lips which parted, granting him entrance. He hummed into the slow, tender kiss, one less demanding than their previous kisses but full of promise and subtle passion.   
  
Prowl resisted only momentarily before melting into the kiss, his glossa greeting Jazz’s gently, his optics dimming as he savoured Jazz’s unique flavour. Breaking the kiss with a soft murr, he met Jazz’s gaze with a searching one of his own. “Jazz… you didn’t answer my question…”   
  
Pressing another quick kiss to Prowl’s mouth, Jazz chuckled and began to kiss his way down Prowl’s plating, visor brightening as he peered up at him. “I wanted to give you something…”   
  
Mildly confused and unspeakably distracted by Jazz’s mouth and glossa busying themselves over his plating; Prowl let out a quiet, undignified mewl. Clearing his vocaliser with an embarrassed burst of static he tried to respond more eloquently. “You don’t… nnh… need to… Jazz…” Inhaling sharply as Jazz mouthed over his heated panel, Prowl’s words faded with a soft gasp.   
  
“I want to.” Jazz replied softly, his visor glowing warmly as he caressed the smooth panel. “Want to trust you… so trust me…” He murmured earnestly, his movements stilling as Prowl savoured his words.   
  
Offlining his optics as he regained some semblance of control over his arousal, Prowl managed a feeble nod and in a display of his offered trust he retracted his panel willingly, receiving a purr from the black and white mech now nestled between his legs, just as he had been between Jazz’s on that first night.  
  
Smirking Jazz lowered his helm and blew air softly over Prowl’s now exposed components eliciting a sharp hiss from the enforcer as his fists balled into the thin sheets. Humming in enjoyment he began to lap slowly from the valve entrance and up the full length of Prowl’s still sheathed spike, teasing the head playfully with his glossa until the spike released into his mouth. Watching Prowl with a deep azure visor, Jazz sank slowly over his spike, glossa caressing the underside of the hot component, running over the ridges of sensor nodes embedded in the plating.

 

Helm pressing into the soft pillow, his mouth falling open with a soft ‘oh’, Prowl keened quietly, hands pulling at the sheets as sensation rushed to his components increasing their sensitivity as Jazz’s helm bobbed faster over his length, his warm mouth squeezing and sucking languidly. Shivers rippled down his back struts, causing him to arch off the berth when without warning two fingers pushed slowly into his valve.  
  
He murmured Jazz’s name as he felt his digits wriggling deeper into his valve, rubbing over the inner lining, caressing sensor nodes before starting to thrust into him over and over, not giving Prowl chance to regain coherency as Jazz’s pace picked up over his spike.   
Jazz hummed and his engine revved loudly as Prowl moaned and panted, hips unconsciously rising into his ministrations, thrusting his spike into the slick warmth of his mouth. Prowl’s optics flickered erratically, his energy field flared wildly over Jazz’s, uncontrolled and raw as overload slammed through his systems, rendering the enforcer strutless on the berth as he cried out in pleasure, electric energy crackling over his frame.   
Falling limp against the padding, Prowl keened and whimpered helplessly, his optics focusing dimly on the mech now crawling up his frame looking very pleased with himself.   
  
“Frag, you’re hot when you’re like this.” Jazz uttered lowly, stealing another kiss as he lay beside Prowl, draping over him lazily, relishing the mech’s shudders of release.   
  
Dizzy and sated, Prowl simply hummed in response and curled his arms about Jazz enjoying the moment of closeness. He could definitely get used to this.   
  
Both mech’s stilled and tensed in the berth as Prowl’s external comm. trilled for attention.   
  
“Ignore it.” Jazz murmured quietly. “Still early.”   
  
Prowl lay still for a moment, relaxing slightly when the trill subsided before glancing over at his monitor when it started up again, seemingly more insistent than before and sighing. “I have to get this, Jazz.” He murmured reluctantly pulling away from the other mech’s warm frame nestled beside him.   
  
Jazz watched him for a moment as he accepted the call and frowned slightly when his sharp audio picked up the words serial killer and another one.   
  
That was his cue. Smiling faintly when Prowl turned back round, he shook his helm at Prowl’s apologetic expression. “S’alright, Prowl. You got your job.” He stretched slowly and turned away from the enforcer watching him quietly and got to his feet. “I should be getting back, they’ll be wondering what’s happened to me.”  
  
Prowl opened his mouth to protest only to think better of it and gave Jazz a small nod. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” He stated assuredly.  
  
Jazz glanced over his shoulder and gave Prowl a small smile. “Sure. Good luck with your case… I’ll see myself out.”   
  
Canting his helm in slight confusion at Jazz’s abrupt exit, Prowl simply watched him leave not entirely certain what to make of the mech’s rapid change of demeanour.

 

****  
Ironhide looked up grimly as Prowl approached the scene. “We’ve got no leads, no witnesses just like before.”   
  
Prowl nodded, his expression unchanging, impassive as he surveyed the corpse and the surrounding scene. “Have we started going through suspects, newcomers to the area?”  
  
“Got the rookies already on it.” Ironhide replied. “Nothing is jumping out at us yet but we’ll keep looking.”  
  
“It’s very clean, precise.” Prowl surmised as he crouched down closer to the body. “Looks professional.”  
  
“That’s why I wanted you to see this one. I was worried it’d be something like that.”  
  
Prowl frowned as he stood up. “Why would there be professional kills in Praxus? Bounty hunting is outlawed here, we’re not associated with any of the rebels currently causing trouble in and around Kaon and we have resolved to remain out of the political climate. Why kill these Decepticons, here, now?”  
  
Ironhide shrugged and shook his helm. “I don’t like it. Maybe there’s someone trying to make us act, make us feel under attack. Doesn’t make any sense and seems random.”  
  
Pursing his lip components in thought, Prowl walked the scene slowly with his partner. Just like the last case there was no evidence to be obtained and they were fast approaching another dead end. “I have a bad feeling that somebody is deliberately targeting those of Decepticon faction in an attempt to incite riot and unrest.” He stated after a short while.  
  
Ironhide glanced at his partner. “If we state that publicly, we could end up with mass panic.”  
  
“I am aware of that.” Prowl replied quietly. “We need to know more before we can go public. Targeting particular faction members simply doesn’t make sense, being an Autobot or a Decepticon hasn’t mattered for Vorns, not since the first Great War against the creators, I don’t understand why it should matter now.” He vented air slowly in mild frustration. “In any case, we need to keep treating this as it appears to be a serial killer and that by its very definition means that these mechs weren’t chosen at random. Find out anything you can about the victims, any similarities we might have overlooked.”  
  
“Consider it done. What are you going to do?” Ironhide turned to walk back to the transport leaving the cleanup crew to do their job.  
  
“Get in touch with my enforcer contacts in the neighbouring districts and cities; perhaps they may have had similar incidents which would shed some light on our current situation.”  
  
****  
Sitting back in his chair, Jazz rubbed his helm and exhaled slowly. Glancing over at his friend, Blaster frowned slightly, putting his instrument to one side. “Is the word given?”  
  
Staring grimly at his screen, Jazz folded his arms. “The word is given.”  
  
“Well, this is going to be messy.” Mirage stated dryly from the corner.   
  
“Don’t start, mech.” Jazz warned quietly. “We all knew this could happen eventually.”  
  
Bumblebee shook his helm and handed each one of them an energon cube. “What’s the plan?”

 

“We hold cover for now. Keep up appearances during the evening. Next cycle we contact the enforcers. They’ll either work with us, or we take over. Jazz replied soberly, sipping his cube.   
  
Blaster chuckled slightly and picked up his instrument to continue its tuning. “You know, I actually enjoyed performing this time, reminded me of old times.”   
  
Jazz pushed up from his chair and downed his cube. “Some things are better left forgotten, mech.” He walked to the door, halting when Mirage caught his arm lightly.   
  
“What about Prowl?”   
  
“What about him?” Jazz repeated, meeting Mirage’s hard gaze.   
  
“He’s part of the job now. No point in getting sentimental, he’ll never trust you again.”   
  
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.” The black and white retorted sullenly as he peeled Mirage’s hand from his arm.   
  
“You know better than anyone that enforcers as a whole can’t be trusted.” Mirage spoke up as Jazz turned to leave. “Prowl may not be like him personality wise but we all know Praxus enforcers are mass manufactured, nothing special, nothing unique, intrinsically they’re the same.”  
  
Jazz hesitated; glancing over his shoulder at his friend who he knew was only speaking what he thought was the truth, no matter how biased he might be. “Nah, mech.” He smiled thinly. “Prowl’s different...”   
  
“Don’t get too attached…” Mirage started, trailing off as Jazz’s visor met his optics and he recognised an old familiar pain flicker briefly across his friend’s faceplates. He bowed his helm as Jazz left without another word and he knew it was already too late.  
  
The tension was thick in the room as Blaster and Bumblebee glared at Mirage when he turned back to face them. “You know, you can be a right royal pain in the aft sometimes, ‘Raj.” Bumblebee broke the silence with a faint smirk, followed by an amused chuckle of agreement from Blaster.  
  
The former noble gave Bumblebee a pointed look, an optic ridge quirking upwards slightly. “I am at least paid to be.”   
****

 

Ironhide winced as Prowl’s fist slammed onto his desk in an uncharacteristic loss of temper. They were being stone-walled at every step; every contact refused to cooperate with them and would not explain why.  
  
“This is unbelievable!” Prowl exclaimed in frustration. “We’re all supposed to be on the same side, enforcers and criminals and yet they all appear to be protecting the criminals. Damn them to the pits!” He seethed, his sensor panels rising up on his back, twitching with controlled ire.  
  
“We’re not having much luck either. These mechs have nothing in common. There is no MO that I can work out. Doesn’t fit the profile of a serial killer.” Ironhide added glumly, glancing at his partner who had taken to pacing in front of his desk. “It’s a dead end, Prowl.”  
  
“I cannot tolerate another dead end. We can’t keep waiting until somebody else’s spark is extinguished.”   
  
“You’re preaching to the converted, kid but I don’t know what else to tell ya. We’re dead in the water.”   
  
Stopping to give his partner a pointed look, Prowl huffed indignantly and sank into the chair opposite Ironhide’s. “Enquire who’s willing to pull double shifts for the next few solar cycles, we can’t lie down on this, increase patrols and get the data analysts working overtime. We have to find something. We’ll work late nights for the next vorn if we have to.”  
  
Pinching his nasal bridge to stave off a processor ache, Prowl sighed softly as his temper ebbed, when he lost his temper it was always in spectacular form but it never lasted very long.  
  
“Speaking of late nights.” Ironhide responded with a smirk as he typed the orders into the general communiqué network. “How was your date?”  
  
“Is your mind ever on work?”   
  
“I resent the insinuation.” Ironhide sat back in his chair, feigning insult. “I multi-task my thinking.”  
  
“Hmm…” Prowl pursed his lip components dubiously at the red mech who grinned shamelessly at him.   
  
“So, come on…? A certain waitress tells me it wasn’t a complete waste of time and somebody had to rescue someone from a sudden acid rain storm.”   
  
Leaning forward with a devilish smirk at his partner, Ironhide clasped his hands before him, emulating Prowl whenever he was carrying out an interview upon a suspect. “Knight in shining armour now are we?”  
  
Shaking his helm at his partner, Prowl sighed softly. “It wasn’t like that. We talked, his armour wasn’t built for tolerating large amounts of acid rain exposure and my apartment was nearby. I did what anyone would’ve done.”  
  
“Anyone would’ve waited in the café.” Ironhide pointed out, thoroughly enjoying watching his partner squirm a little in his seat.

 

“We didn’t get up to anything if that’s what you’re implying.” Prowl stated quickly with a slight frown.   
  
“Hey, I’m not implying anything. That thought is all on you.” Came Ironhide’s amused reply.  
  
Pushing himself from his seat, Prowl’s sensor panels twitched in mild embarrassment, talking about his personal life wasn’t something he was used to, even with Ironhide as his partner. “We talked, the rain didn’t ease, Jazz stayed on the sofa.”  
  
Before Ironhide could reply a young enforcer burst into their office looking a little worried. “Sirs… special operations are here, they want to speak to the Commandant.”  
  
“Have you told the commandant?” Ironhide asked with a confused scowl.   
  
“Yessir, but… I thought you both might want to see…”  
  
Prowl frowned. “See what? Its Special operations as in Prime’s own special operations isn’t it?”  
  
The rookie nodded and pointed out across the office to the visitor waiting area as Prowl approached the door.   
  
Watching his partner as he moved around the desk, Ironhide frowned when Prowl seemed to visibly stiffen and his doorwings rose sharply up on his back. “What is it, Prowl?”   
  
Prowl silently opened the door wider so Ironhide could observe the special operations officer being escorted into their superior’s office.  
  
Ironhide stopped and stared, his mouth dropping open as his optics fell onto the slightly different but still recognisable form of Jazz. “Well frag me sideways…” He uttered in surprise as the visored mech caught their gazes and gave them both a brief, polite nod, his face unreadable, impassive. Much like his partner’s usual visage, when it wasn’t frozen in an expression of shock.


	6. Revelations

Ironhide watched his partner and friend with a wary optic as the enforcer commandant introduced Jazz to them cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. To anyone else, Prowl would seem his standard stoic self but Ironhide knew better and from the minute quiver of the mech’s doorwings and the piercing glare, he knew that Prowl was pissed. At this point he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the Praxian quite so annoyed and frankly that had him on edge. Giving Jazz a curt nod as the mech was introduced to him, their optics met and Ironhide knew instantly that Jazz was well aware of the atmosphere in their small office, though to give him credit he was doing a good job of not showing it.  
  
“So Jazz is going to be working with us on our case. His team has vast experience in this field and I’m sure you’ll show them every courtesy.”  
  
The commandant drawled on, not waiting for a confirmation from his subordinates before giving them a curt nod and leaving Jazz with them to ‘get acquainted’. Prowl leveled a steady glare at the smaller black and white, noticing the subtle differences in his armour, it was thicker with no traces of acid rain exposure and his posture was confident, self-assured as one would expect from a special operations agent. Jazz held his glare, his visor making him difficult to read. Part of Prowl felt like he was being mocked, that this was all part of some cruel joke and the optics hidden behind that visor were smug and filled with mirth, it made him want to rip it from the mech’s face and crush it in his fist. How could he have been so foolish, so careless and irresponsible?   
  
He waited for the commandant to leave before approaching Jazz his stride filled with intent, doorwings fanning up and out on his back, his glower causing the special ops mech to take a step back and Ironhide to shift uncomfortably towards him.  
  
“Prowl…”  
  
Prowl heard the quiet warning in his partner’s voice but all of his attention was focused on Jazz. Neither one of them said anything as he looked the black and white up and down with an angry scowl. Opening his mouth to say something he clamped it shut and shook his helm, words to express just how angry and embarrassed he felt, failed him. There was nothing to say and he needed to get away from the mech before he did or said something he would regret. Stepping back he held up his hand as Jazz began to speak and averted his optics. Turning away he exited the office briskly and both mechs winced as the sound of a door slamming violently echoed through the enforcer office causing everyone to stop and stare.  
  
Grimacing slightly, Jazz shot Ironhide a sidelong glance. “That went better than I expected it to.” He stated quietly.  
  
Folding his arms and frowning at the black and white, Ironhide clicked in admonishment. “You have no idea and it was more than you deserved.”  
  
“Yeah I got that…” Jazz replied softly, his gaze returning to the open door. “So… are you going to make this difficult too?”

Ironhide let out a short humourless laugh. “You made this difficult all by yourself. Now you better start explaining a few things before I make things a whole lot worse for you.”  
  
****  
  
Prowl padded around the training room, stretching his limbs, swinging his drawn energon sword. It wasn’t a standard issue weapon but it aided in his hand to hand combat training and required focus and precision to wield. In a perfect world there would be no need for weapons, he was not naturally a violent mech but sometimes his temper got the better of him. It was rare that he got worked up to the point where the urge to break things took hold, he was an expert at maintaining his cool, keeping a level head even in a crisis. This had served him well as an enforcer and his reputation apparently preceded him. The rookies looked up to him and emulated his style and it was rumoured that he was on track to succeed the commandant some solar cycle in the future but for Prowl being an enforcer was a hands on job. He wanted to be involved, not direct from behind a desk.  
  
Composing himself and ex-venting slowly he activated the training drones and unsheathed a second sword, spinning both in his hands as he launched himself at the constantly moving targets. He ducked and weaved over and under obstacles, the blades slicing through metal, shimmering as the light skimmed off their fast moving surfaces. Completely focused, Prowl poured all of his energy, his anger, his frustrations into his training, cutting down drone after drone.  
  
From the viewing balcony, Jazz watched with narrowed optics behind an impenetrable azure visor. Prowl he’d come to surmise, was more similar to him than he’d given the mech credit for. Like him Prowl wore a mask, one which hid his emotions, kept his true self at bay. Jazz watched enthralled with the visceral movements of the mech, his strikes powerful and his technique raw and full of a passion Jazz had only caught a glimpse of once before. It heated his body to his very core and the special ops mech felt his engine rev as Prowl cut down another drone. He knew the mech was angry, angry at him, most likely felt deceived, humiliated, Jazz had been in his position, he knew exactly how Prowl felt but he had to make sure Prowl knew that what had happened between them wasn’t about the job. At this moment, Jazz wasn’t really sure what it was about but for the first time in a long time, he’d begun to feel something other than bitterness and cynicism and he didn’t want to lose the mech’s trust, not when he’d finally offered his own.  
  
Prowl leapt up and spun, his optics narrow as the first blade sliced through the second to last drone. His sharp optics picked up a flash of movement to his right as he landed and he quickly checked himself, altering his trajectory as the momentum and weight of the swords carried him round to the last drone. Angling the first sword down, he released the hilt and brought the second sword to a smooth halt against the softer metal of Jazz’s throat.   
  
“Nice… thanks for stopping…” Jazz uttered, his visor bright as he took in the location of the first sword embedded into the drone directly beside him, the blade quivering in front of his waist.  
  
Intakes panting, Prowl bore down on the smaller mech, his optics narrowing as his anger returned. “Are you always so reckless?” He bit out, his voice almost a low snarl as he slowly removed his sword from Jazz’s neck, retrieving the other before sheathing them both.   
  
“Well that depends…” Jazz started softly.  
  
“On what? How large a death wish you have at the time or who you can hurt along the way?” Prowl snapped impatiently, noticing the flinch in the special ops mech at his harsh tone and harsher words. At least the mech did actually feel something then.  
  
Jazz nodded, looking about the ruined training room. “Alright I deserved that.” He murmured, glancing back at Prowl. “Didn’t know you could move like that.”  
  
“There is a lot you don’t know about me.” Prowl responded curtly, turning on his heel with every intention of leaving.

“I’d like to…” Jazz called out after him, his optics brightening when Prowl froze, his door wings twitching slightly as his helm canted to one side.   
  
“To what end, Jazz? Surely you must be bored of your game by now?” His voice had a bitter tinge to it and all of a sudden he felt a rush of loathing that he’d allowed himself to become so involved, so attached to a mech he, in reality, hardly knew at all.  
  
“You were never a game.” Came the quiet answer.  
  
Whirling on Jazz, Prowl approached him with a dark scowl. “So what, this is all just reconnaissance for you? Staking out, finding out who you have to work with before you come in and take over?”  
  
“You weren’t ever part of the job, Prowl and you know it.” Jazz snapped back, meeting the Praxian’s stern glare.  
  
“I don’t know anything!” Prowl countered loudly, his voice carrying in the large room. “I know nothing about you and everything I thought I knew was a lie!”  
  
“Not all of it.” Jazz bowed his helm slightly, peering up at Prowl with a slight frown. “Remember the first night we met? I told you then that performing wasn’t my day job… I didn’t know who you were then, I only found out later on that you were on this case and by then it was too late…”  
  
“Too late?” Prowl repeated incredulously, a deep frown creasing his faceplates. “Too late to be honest with me, to tell me the truth?”   
  
Scoffing, Prowl half turned and gave Jazz a look that betrayed the anguish and torrent of emotion he felt inside. “For a mech that made me earn his trust, you don’t appear to go out of your way to earn it from others. Even those you apparently care about but as special ops I suppose it gives you a right to take advantage, to get what you want. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had managed to fool many a hapless enforcer into believing a charismatic, attractive performer was actually interested in him…” His voice trailed off and he shook his helm slightly with a weary sigh. “Just like you fooled me.” He finished softly a sadness creeping into his normally steady voice.  
  
Face twisting at Prowl’s words, Jazz took a step closer, his hand reaching for Prowl’s arm tentatively as he murmured apologetically. “Please just let me explain… I never meant for any of this to happen.” He winced as Prowl jerked his arm away and glared down at him coldly, the ferocity of his icy optics sending a shiver through Jazz’s back struts.  
  
“Well it did happen. And now it’s done. I hope the experience was worth your while.” Prowl turned away and marched briskly towards the exit, grasping hold of his fraying control tightly until he’d found somewhere private to unleash his demons. Enough damage had already been done.  
  
“Prowl, please… wait!” Jazz called after him, shifting to follow only to be halted by those hard optics once more.   
  
“I have nothing to talk about.” The black and white stated darkly, his optics narrowing as they scrutinised Jazz, his voice dropping to a lowly, disapproving murmur. “Least of all with you.”  
  
****

 

For the remainder of the solar cycle Jazz skulked around the enforcer precinct. He had half expected Prowl to return to work given what he did know of the mech but Ironhide informed him that he’d taken some personal time and that he should consider leaving the situation well alone. Jazz didn’t want to leave it alone, he wanted the chance to explain to Prowl, wanted to regain his trust. He’d only realised afterwards just how precious a commodity Prowl’s trust was and Jazz wanted it back for reasons he couldn’t quite explain at the moment. While at the precinct he soaked up the details of the case, Ironhide worked with him amicably although Jazz knew the red mech would much rather put him through a wall. A part of him admired his restraint, if it had been him and Blaster or Bumblebee, Jazz knew he would have done much more to someone than put them through a wall if they’d hurt his friends the way he’d obviously hurt Prowl.

  
Ironhide swore softly and got to his feet, drawing Jazz’s attention. “You’re up, we’ve got another one and Prowl isn’t answering his comm.”  
  
  
Jazz frowned as he got to his feet. “Is that normal?” From the look that Ironhide threw his way, Jazz knew immediately that Prowl being out of contact wasn’t in any way normal. His frown deepening he pushed his concern aside for the time being and concentrated on the job at hand. They had a case to work on, one that had been plaguing Jazz for longer than he cared to remember.  
  
They raced to the scene in their alt modes, not bothering to wait for the transport; time was of the essence with this case as evidence had a tendency to mysteriously disappear.  
  
Ironhide transformed first a surprised grunt leaving his vocaliser. “Prowl… how’d you—“  
  
“—Emergency comm.” The Praxian stated blandly to his partner, acknowledging Jazz with a brief, unreadable glance, his hand raising to stop them in their tracks as he read the scene.  
  
“What we got?” Ironhide asked, getting straight to business as he surveyed the scene, giving his partner a sidelong glance.   
  
Prowl walked the scene slowly, calling out details to his partner who noted them down while under the watchful gaze of Jazz. The Praxian explained the details of this current murder, his face a picture of concentration as he crouched down carefully by the deactivated frame.   
  
Jazz’s optics floated over the scene following Prowl’s movements as he mapped it out to them verbally, looking for anything unusual, anything out of place, as well as anything that was similar to the previous cases he’d worked as he listened to Prowl’s steady voice reeling off the facts as they knew them so far. Although no link had been found, Jazz was certain the cases that had an eerily similar MO were in fact by the same culprit, if not a copy cat. The only problem was proving it.  
  
“Have we checked inside the unfortunate mech’s armour plating?” He asked suddenly drawing the two enforcers’ attentions to him in faint bewilderment.   
  
“Nothing unusual has been found in the recent spate of victims, why?” Ironhide asked.  
  
Jazz scowled in thought, absently stroking his chin as he folded his arms across his chest. “In cases with a similar MO to this, there were a few which had unusual markings inside the plating of the victims. It had been etched there after death or during deactivation.”  
  
“Ouch.” Ironhide commented with a slight grimace.  
  
“Yeah.” Jazz nodded in agreement, his gaze momentarily flicking to Prowl as the lead investigator. “So have you had that checked during autopsy?”  
Prowl’s doorwings twitched slightly and his lips pressed into a thin line.  
  
“We have not had reason to go that in depth in the autopsy.” He replied, his voice tight at the realisation he had not been digging deeply enough into the individual cases and took it as a personal failure on his part.  
  
Mistaking the tone as one disgruntled attitude being directed towards him, Jazz gave Prowl a humourless smirk. “Well now you do. Might I suggest it gets done this time?”

Piercing optics flashed at Jazz subtly in warning at his blasé remark, it was bad enough he’d missed this vital step in the investigation in his own unforgivable distraction; he would not have Jazz compound the issue by undermining his authority while at a scene in front of other enforcers who relied on him. Turning away from the special ops agent, Prowl barked out orders to the waiting enforcers and coroner. “Take this mech. We need an autopsy on the entirety of his frame. Be sure to check every surface for unusual markings.”  
  
“Yessir.” Came the resounding response as the mechs moved into action.  
  
Jazz held up his hand to add that they also carry out additional autopsies on the previous victims to the same level of scrutiny but Prowl beat him to the punch. Meeting the Praxian’s steady gaze, Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what emotions Prowl was hiding under that impassive visage as he narrowed his optics at him.  
  
“Was there anything else, Agent Jazz?”   
  
Suppressing a wince at the formal address and enunciation in Prowl’s voice, Jazz shook his helm and offered him a grin. “No, I think that covers everything.” He brushed past the black and white heading into the building to continue walking the scene, adding softly for Prowl’s audio only. “For now.”  
  
****  
  
Downing the cube of high grade the black and white poured another and glared at his door accusingly when a faint knock stopped him from downing the second cube’s contents. Moving to the living area, Prowl sat down with his cube fully intending to ignore the visitor who knocked again more insistently this time. Offlining his optics he sat back in his sofa, helm dropping back onto the soft cushion before an all too familiar and distinctive voice broke through the silence and darkness of his home.  
  
“I know you’re in there, Prowl. Open the door, mech or you’re just going to force me to get creative.”  
  
Onlining his optics Prowl scowled up at the ceiling. “Go away.” He spoke out, his tone flat, weary.  
  
“Not going to happen.” Came the soft reply.  
  
Sighing and pushing to his feet, Prowl moved closer to the door and rested his fore helm against the cool metal, palms pressing against the smooth surface. “Why are you doing this?”  
  
“Because I care.”  
  
Optics dimming slightly at the softly spoken words, Prowl warred with himself. He wanted to believe him, wanted Jazz to still be the same mech despite all the lies. Could he still be that talented, affectionate, if guarded performer underneath his special ops persona? Prowl wanted to know, he wanted to find out but fear of being made a fool of, of jeopardising his career, taking advantage of his position weighed heavily on his processor. He’d been in sticky personal situations before and it had almost cost him his enforcer’s badge. He had been young, naïve at the time, barely an enforcer, straight out of the academy. It was only because Ironhide had put his stubbornness to good use that had kept Prowl from losing everything. Since then Ironhide had been the only one Prowl had implicitly trusted from that point on and so he’d understood when Jazz was wary to trust him in the beginning had wanted to give him time, see if their attraction could blossom into something more. Now though he felt like he was at a disadvantage, put on the back foot, their roles had been reversed and after being so sure he wanted Jazz’s trust at the start of that solar cycle, he was no longer quite so confident he wanted to return his own.  
  
“Prowl… please let me in…” The voice whispered from the other side of the door, causing Prowl to wilt slightly in defeat. In spite of his hard exterior, Prowl had never been able to deny the will of his spark. He gave his all with everything he was passionate about and Jazz had inexplicably lit a passion within him that he’d long given up for lost.

 

Composing himself with a deep intake, Prowl unlocked the door and pushed away from it, his faceplates schooled with practised ease into a scowl as the smaller black and white stepped inside his home, hesitantly.  
  
Closing the door behind him, Jazz turned to face the Praxian, his spark pulsing hard in his chest, Primus damn the mech for having such an effect on him and him for letting the mech get under his plating. Throwing the stern mech a lop-sided grin, Jazz leant against the closed door, unsure of how to begin, as if reading his mind, Prowl’s icy optics narrowed and his arms clasped behind him, doorwings flaring out making the mech seem much bigger than he actually was. It was almost intimidating, if Jazz hadn’t seen them do the exact same thing when they’d shared a berth that first night.   
  
“An apology would be a good place to start, Jazz.” Prowl broke the silence with his terse statement.  
  
Nodding and ex-venting slowly, Jazz’s grin faded into something more sombre, a look which Prowl decided gave the special ops mech a much darker appearance as the smaller mech met his gaze steadily. “Prowl, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I did and that I allowed you to believe I was just a performer. I should’ve come clean the cycle that I knew who you were and the rank you held. I knew I’d have to work with the enforcers eventually I just had started to hope you weren’t assigned to this particular case. I should’ve been honest with you.”   
  
“Yes, you should have.” Prowl responded curtly, turning away from Jazz to walk over to the small table housing his cube of high grade. “You have severely compromised my position in this case on a personal and professional level.” Glancing at Jazz as he swirled his high grade, Prowl’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “I expected more decorum and restraint from a special operations agent.”  
  
Bristling at the insinuation, well aware that Prowl’s words were being spoken in anger towards him, Jazz frowned and glared back at the Praxian. “You chased me, remember?” He retorted. “You were the one who couldn’t take a hint. Frag, mech you came back to apologise AFTER I’d kicked you out of my berth!” Pacing now in frustration, Jazz stopped and gestured wildly at Prowl. “Who does that unless they’re glitched?!”  
  
“Clearly better mecha than I!” Prowl countered loudly, stepping closer to Jazz in his anger as he pointed an accusing finger at the smaller mech. “And if I’m so glitched,” he hissed, “why are you even here? Isn’t this what you wanted? Me off your struts, no longer interested, cast aside like so much used slag?!”  
  
“Yes! No!” Jazz argued back, holding his ground, frowning as Prowl scoffed and shook his helm; he grabbed the larger mech by the arms before he could turn away from him. “I thought it was!” He insisted, visor staring up at Prowl intently, silently imploring the mech to look at him to see he meant every word. “I didn’t want to trust you; I’ve had bad experiences getting mixed up with enforcers alright!” He tightened his grip on Prowl’s arms, tugging him closer even as the mech gritted his denta and refused to meet his gaze. “You were different, sincere, genuine and it made me want something I haven’t wanted in a long time.” Jazz reached up to cup Prowl’s face, forcing the mech to look at him, desperate for him to see that he wasn’t playing a game. “I still want it.” He murmured, pressing closer to the black and white, who’s normally confident icy optics were dim with fatigue and doubt. Stroking Prowl’s face lightly, drawing closer, Jazz pressed his point. “Please, Prowl, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t want it to come to this, we didn’t know we’d even have to reveal our cover, s’why I didn’t tell you, I wasn’t ready to tell you, didn’t know if I could trust you on a personal level… please mech…” He whispered in earnest, their lips almost touching, his optics searching Prowl’s face for any hint of resistance before he pressed his lips against the Praxian’s in a chaste kiss.

 

Despite himself, Prowl felt a soft whine escape his vocaliser as Jazz kissed him. The mech was intoxicating and even with the shiest of kisses, Prowl felt his frame heating up, his processor becoming clouded with the haze of desire and a longing to be wanted by Jazz. Like Jazz he wanted to give his trust, wanted to see if whatever they had could be more, he had been serious when he’d told Jazz he didn’t pursue anything lightly, that went doubly for matters of his spark. Unconsciously pressing into the kiss, he gripped Jazz’s waist, holding him flush to him with a lowly growl as he deepened their kiss needily, their glossa meeting hesitantly savouring the unique flavour of the other before they were taken over by a burning fervour, their mouths crushing together as they clung to one another tightly.  
  
Their kiss broke with soft mewl from Jazz, both their intakes working harder to cool their frames, their helms resting against each other as they tried to assert control over their mutual desires. “Please, Prowl… I don’t want the fact I’m a special ops mech to put a dampener on what is clearly something we mutually want.” Jazz whispered softly, fingers idly stroking Prowl’s plating, tracing the seams where black met white.  
  
Shivering under Jazz’s caresses, feeling a tingle of pleasure chasing his talented fingers over his frame, Prowl inhaled deeply and caught Jazz’s hands with his own. “But it already has…” He murmured, his tone coloured with regret and a weariness Jazz couldn’t place.  
  
“It doesn’t have to…”  
  
“Jazz, I am the lead enforcer investigating the very case you’ve been working on for I don’t even know how long. At the very best this is a conflict of interests, not to mention that you’ve been lying to me and I have no idea how much information you’re keeping back from us on this case.” Meeting Jazz’s bright visor, Prowl lifted his hands away from his frame, his expression both stern and twisted with an unspoken frustration as history repeated itself. “You should have trusted me from the beginning, then none of this would have happened. We wouldn’t have gotten into this tangled mess as I would have done the right thing and not pursued you.”  
  
“You don’t mean that.”  
  
Pushing Jazz away from him gently and taking a step back, Prowl shook his helm and released Jazz’s hands. “It would have been the right thing to do. If you think I would jeopardise my career for a mech I barely know you are very much mistaken.” Prowl spoke quietly, his tone measured as he said what he felt needed to be said. This was the situation and neither of them could change that as neither would likely remove themselves from the case. “I am not the fool you have made me out to be, Jazz. That’s why this must end, now.”  
  
“I don’t think you’re a fool. A stubborn aft glitch, sure but not a fool, Prowl… you of all mechs can’t judge me for being cautious, for not throwing his trust away, you can’t lay all of this on me!” Jazz felt his frustration growing once more. “But I don’t think it’s a good enough reason to just give up, when this case is over—“  
  
“—When it is over, you will return to Iacon, you will leave my city and go back to whatever life you led before you met me.” Prowl interrupted in irritation. “No, you’re right I can’t judge you for not throwing your trust at just any mech, but you allowed me to give mine without having all of the facts, when you knew better.”

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know you were on this case until the start of this solar cycle and you know that and I couldn’t just reveal my cover to just any enforcer.” Jazz retorted with a scowl at the black and white. “Nobody asked you to chase me…” He added in a quiet mutter, looking down at the floor. “I never asked for this, this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”  
  
“It’s all just a little bit of history repeating.” Prowl replied quietly, holding Jazz’s glare when the mech snapped his helm back up to look at him. “You’re not the only one with a past, Jazz.”  
  
“How d’you know wha—“  
  
“—It is irrelevant now isn’t it? Neither of us have the right to know the other’s sordid history but you have taught me an invaluable lesson, Jazz. I should have trusted my own instincts and stayed well away.” Prowl let out a humourless laugh and half turned away from Jazz. “You were the first mech I’ve pursued in over a vorn and it has only served to remind me why I stopped chasing.”  
  
Swearing and reaching for the black and white once more, sensing he was losing what he’d come here to salvage, Jazz frowned at Prowl. “Stop being a glitchmouse and a stubborn one at that and give us a chance, Prowl! We can still work this ou—“  
  
“—You should leave now.” Came the quiet, stern reply. Prowl’s mask was firmly back in place as he regarded the special ops mech coldly. “You’re no longer welcome here. Please leave before I have to make you leave.”  
  
Staring at Prowl with a bright visor, Jazz felt anger at the sheer stubbornness of the mech bubbling through him. Swearing once more, Jazz marched to the door and halted, pointing a determined finger back at Prowl. “What happened to that mech that knew what he wanted, that thought I was worth fighting for, huh? Funny how things change when we actually get what we want isn’t it?” Shaking his helm, Jazz gave Prowl a withering look, disdain written all over his face. “And to think I was telling ‘Raj that you were different, that you weren’t just a drone like all the rest of ‘em. I was the fool in all this, Prowl, not you. I actually believed you meant what you said. ‘Raj will be pleased that he was right all along.”   
  
Prowl didn’t look at Jazz as the mech uttered the words that stabbed into his spark and could only flinch at the slamming of his door, marking the mech’s exit.  
****  
  
Ironhide frowned as he spied the black and white transform and accelerate away from Prowl’s apartment at high speed. The mech really didn’t know when to leave alone. Having spoken to Jazz earlier about the sticky situation he and Prowl had gotten themselves into, he had to conclude that Jazz’s intentions were good ones, even if he’d gone the aft over helm way of showing it. Now he just needed to speak to his partner, see if the highly strung mech could be reasoned with. Knowing Prowl he would be in one of two states of mind. He would either be sullen and moody, but willing to listen even if he didn’t show it or the other. Ironhide silently prayed to Primus that it was the former.  
  
Rapping lightly at the door, he waited a few kliks for an answer, when none came; Ironhide proceeded to unlock the door. “Prowl?” He called out into the dark apartment warily. Stepping inside, he peered around the dimly lit apartment and frowned when he spied the Praxian sprawled on his sofa face first, bottle of high grade on the table. Shaking his helm and shutting the door with an audible click he clicked in disapproval at the black and white mech. “How did I know you’d opt for door number two?” He drawled.

Turning his helm to peer at Ironhide with one optic, Prowl muttered something unintelligible into the soft padding of the sofa and turned his face back into the seat with a groan.   
  
Blinking his optics just once, Ironhide stared at his partner. “I have no idea what you just said. Let’s try using actual words now.”  
  
Venting a loud sigh, Prowl shifted slightly and turned onto his side, looking every bit as pathetic as he currently felt. “Everything has turned to slag.” He mumbled, reaching for his high grade.  
  
“You’re going to have to be more specific, everything sorta covers a wide range.” Ironhide replied sardonically, ignoring the pointed glare from his friend who sat up momentarily to gulp down what was left of the high grade, letting the bottle drop to the floor unceremoniously when he’d finished before flopping back onto his sofa, burying his helm in one of the cushions.   
  
“Go away.” His voice was muffled against the fabric but Ironhide heard him well enough.  
  
“Not going to happen.” The red mech approached the black and white and perched on his table, canting his helm at him in bemusement.  
  
Shooting him a dark glare, Prowl groaned. “I remember when I used to have authority.” He muttered sullenly.  
  
Ironhide laughed lightly and nudged the mech into sitting up. “You ain’t ever had authority with me scraplet.” When Prowl was finally sat up and scowling at him, he leant on his legs and sighed at his partner. “Thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this anymore…”  
  
“It’s been almost three vorns!” Prowl protested petulantly. “It’s not like I’ve gotten overcharged every solar cycle, just this one.” He slurred slightly, frowning when he noticed and spoke more slowly. “S’not that bad…”  
  
“For anyone else, I’d say this is just a bad solar cycle. For you, this is nigh on the end of the fraggin’ world.”  
  
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Prowl waved a hand at his partner dismissively, averting his optics from the mech’s scrutiny. “You can’t tell me what to do…”   
  
Resisting the urge to roll his optics, Ironhide shook his helm and headed into the kitchen area. “No especially when you’re like this. Not even Primus could tell you what to do when you’re like this.”   
  
“What are you doing?” Prowl frowned at him, pushing at the sofa but finding himself too inebriated to stand for long.  
  
“Making you something to sober you up.” Smirking slightly as the black and white sank back into his sofa with a soft ‘oh’, his humour faded as he watched Prowl’s optics dim his hands covering his faceplates with an embarrassed groan. “Turn it back on did ya?”

“The medic should never have allowed me to pressure the access code out of him.” The Praxian muttered quietly.  
  
Warming his special energon concoction, Ironhide carried it over to Prowl and sat beside him. “You know, when you switch off that advanced logic centre of yours, you turn into a spoilt youngling.”  
  
“I’m so glad you’re finding amusement in all of this.” Prowl stated dryly, gratefully accepting the warmed energon. Sighing softly as he stared at the pale pink contents, he shook his helm. “How did I let this happen again?”  
  
“Prowl you don’t get to choose who you develop feelings for. So what if he’s a special ops mech and he lied a little bit, I gotta say I think he’s serious when it comes to you. You got under that mech’s plating like I don’t think he’s let anyone do before and I think that’s where he likes you to be.”  
  
“And why pray tell are you now so wise in the matters of my personal affairs?”   
  
“It’s my job to be. Who else is going to pick up the pieces?”  
  
“So comforting.” Prowl muttered blandly.  
  
“I try.” Ironhide grinned, patting Prowl’s leg. “You going to be alright?”  
  
“I will undoubtedly regret my actions in the morning.” Prowl replied quietly, sipping at his energon, letting the warm liquid counter the tingling buzz of overcharge rippling through him. “Will you stay…?” His voice was quiet, almost timid as he asked, not daring to look up at his partner.  
  
“Y’sure that’s wise?” Ironhide rumbled all traces of humour gone from his tone.   
  
“I’m not asking for anything. Just company.” Came the murmured response.   
Seeing that his friend was in need of a light sparked distraction, Ironhide smiled cheekily and nudged his partner. “You’d probably settle for a wing massage though too, right?”  
  
Prowl was silent for a few kliks, his doorwings twitching slightly, his optics flicking over to his partner as the tiniest of smiles tugged at his lip components. Straightening slightly, trying to regain his former composure as he slowly recaptured hold of his faculties, he gave a nonchalant flick of his sensory panels and sipped some more of his energon. “I wouldn’t dream of imposing…”  
  
Ironhide snorted and grinned at his friend’s small almost shy smile. “Yeah right. You’d demand it instead.”

 


	7. Full circle

Being roused by the insistent pinging of an incoming urgent comm’ call; Prowl groaned and rubbed his helm. Thanks to Ironhide his processor wasn aching as much as it normally would have been but it hadn’t stopped him from missing the second and third comm. calls from headquarters. Frowning with fatigue, he jumped slightly when Ironhide appeared at the door of his berthroom with a sly grin on his face. 

 

“I gotta say Prowl seeing you overload from just a wing massage never gets old.”

 

Optics dimming with mild embarrassment, Prowl pushed himself up from his berth and threw a pointed look at his partner. “You being as crass as is possible certainly loses its charm though.” 

 

Ironhide placed a hand over his chest with a feigned injured expression on his faceplates. “You wound me, Prowl.” Handing Prowl a cube of warmed energon, Ironhide grinned and clapped Prowl on the shoulder firmly. “Drink up, we’re late. Jazz is having cyber-kittens apparently.”

 

“Something isn’t going according to his convoluted plan?” Prowl raised an optic ridge as he downed the cube. “Why am I not surprised?”

 

Heading for the door, Ironhide threw a look over his shoulder. “So chances of you playing nice at the office are—“

 

“—I will be professional as always, Ironhide. Jazz on the other hand may not be quite so forgiving.”

 

“Each cycle as it comes, Prowl. Case first, apologise later. It’ll work out.” 

 

“I wish I shared your optimism.” Prowl murmured as he closed the door behind them.

****

Jazz looked up at Blaster’s sharp nudge, in time to see Ironhide and Prowl heading towards the office. “About fraggin’ time.” He growled. His visor met Prowl’s optics as the Praxian entered and Jazz’s attuned sensors picked up the faint charge to Prowl’s energy field signifying a recent – recent being in the last solar cycle – overload. Suppressing a growl at the jealousy that ensued at that knowledge he glared between the two enforcers. “Nice of you to show up.” He practically snarled at the two mechs, folding his arms across his chest as though trying to restrain the temper roiling beneath the surface.

 

“Report.” Prowl commanded, ignoring the jibe from the black and white. Receiving the report from Blaster, Prowl narrowed his optics at the team. “I presume you are all special operations then?”

 

“These are the only mechs I trust.” Jazz spoke up, cutting off Blaster before he could respond. “And the report is; things have escalated and if you weren’t too busy getting your jollies off, you would know that.”

 

A low warning rev of Ironhide’s engine had Blaster stepping back from the red mech who now had a face of thunder as he glared at Jazz, who was now too busy glaring at Prowl, who to his credit appeared completely unfazed by the whole situation. The mech was either truly a drone as Mirage had accused or had the back struts of reinforced steel to blatantly ignore Jazz in his current mood, Blaster thought to himself as he looked between the three mechs warily. 

 

“A simple explanation of current events and the situation at hand will suffice, Jazz, if you please.” Prowl replied tersely, levelling a cold, steady gaze at the saboteur that would’ve made a lesser mech wither under its scrutiny. 

 

Jazz positively bristled at the tone and looked ready to start cracking helms any klik now. Resisting the urge to groan in frustration as he watched history repeat itself, Blaster stepped in. “It's Bumblebee, he’s gone missing. He was scouting out potential leads and he missed his last check in which isn’t like him.”

 

“You believe this is connected?” Prowl asked a little more softly as he directed his question to Blaster.

 

“What do you fraggin’ think?” Jazz blurted out angrily. “We’ve been tracking this slag heap for almost a stellar cycle, they know who we are. Why else would he have gone missing?”

 

“It is unusual.” Prowl mused thoughtfully, the only sign he was even picking up on Jazz’s anger was the subtlest twitch of a doorwing. 

 

“What’s unusual is we have to stand here being interrogated by you drones while ‘Bee is out there having Primus knows what done to him! We need to act. NOW!” Jazz bellowed stepping up into Prowl’s space who held his ground easily. 

 

“And act we will but due to the change in circumstances your team now falls under my jurisdiction.”

 

“Like slag it does!” Jazz snarled threat evident in his tone. 

 

Maintaining his stoic demeanour; Prowl fixed a stern gaze onto the smaller black and white. “You will calm down or you will remove yourself from this case, your anger is not conducive to helping us find Bumblebee.” 

 

“You’ve got to be fraggin’ kidding me?!” Jazz countered, looking around the room, meeting the uncertain optics of his team before looking back to Prowl whose emotions and motives remained hidden beneath that icy façade that Jazz wasn’t used to having directed at him. “Your boss is going to hear about this.” He hissed, pointing a finger at Prowl before shoving past him forcefully. “Fraggin’ Praxians, all glitching drones, not a one of you can be trusted!” He called out, angrily shoving a monitor off the desk of an unsuspecting enforcer sending it to the floor in a crash of metal and glass, ignoring the bewildered stares of the enforcers who all stopped what they were doing at the commotion.

 

Venting air slowly, Prowl shut the door to the commotion and looked to the blue mech who had remained quiet in the corner. “I am assuming that in Jazz’s absence you are the mech in charge?”

 

Mirage’s intakes stuttered slightly in surprise at the address. “I erm, yes… I suppose but I—“

 

“—Good, if you could tell me in detail what Bumblebee’s activities were when he went missing we may be able to pinpoint place and time which will narrow down our search.” Prowl presented a large electronic interactive map of the city and expanded it out over the central spare desk in the room, gesturing for Mirage to come closer. “Where do we start?” He inquired formally, a frown forming on his faceplates as he studied the map.

 

Blaster nodded at Mirage who floundered a little at the address, he did not want to go behind Jazz’s back but more than that he wanted to find Bumblebee. Grateful that Prowl was seemingly all business, Mirage composed himself and perused the map. With Blaster’s help they narrowed down Bumblebee’s movements leading up to and around the time of his disappearance and developed a comprehensive search method to use when out in the city.

 

“This is very useful, I will send copies of this to each of you if you give me your comm. frequencies and I recommend you assign yourselves to an enforcer, nobody goes alone given the circumstances.” Prowl glanced at his partner. “Could you see to it appropriate enforcers are assigned and paired up to help with the search?”

 

“Consider it done.” Ironhide affirmed with a nod.

 

“Prowl…” Blaster started, sharing a concerned look with Mirage as he approached the enforcer. “I know it’s controversial but… we could really use Jazz in this. He’s the best tracker we’ve got aside from Bumblebee.”

 

Prowl’s optics dimmed slightly in sympathy. “He is emotionally compromised.”

 

“So are we but he is still the best we’ve got.” Mirage countered quietly. “It would foolhardy not to include him in the search at the very least.”

 

Nodding with a frown, Prowl regarded them both. “I shall take it under advisement. You are dismissed, be careful in the city. This… criminal could have accomplices.”

 

Mirage and Blaster left the room and Ironhide started to follow before stopping beside his partner with a slight frown. “He is one of his agents it wouldn’t be right to keep him out of the investigation, temper or not.”

 

Prowl’s optics dimmed further, his gaze distant as he looked at the map before them. “He could be a liability if he can’t control his emotions, if he can’t keep his personal feelings out of the situation.”

 

“Look at it this way…” Ironhide replied softly. “If it were you in his place and it was me or Jazz that was missing, would you be able to keep your personal feelings out of the situation?” 

 

“That is not what I meant…” Prowl began before looking up and meeting Ironhide’s glowing optics, his doorwings drooping slightly on his back. “I will speak with him…” He murmured softly. 

 

Ironhide nodded and gave him a wan smile and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Good luck.”

****

 

“PROWL! MY OFFICE, NOW!”

 

Prowl’s sensor panels raised up sharply on his back as his Commandant’s voice boomed through the precinct. Venting a soft sigh he headed through the office well aware that various enforcers’ optics were trained on him in a mixture of curious apprehension.

 

“Sir?” 

 

His superior looked up and gestured for him to close the door with a glare harsh enough to eviscerate a mech. “Jazz tells me there’s friction.” He started tersely, lacing his fingers in front of him. “You’re aware that he is one of Prime’s agents, correct?”

 

“I am, Sir, but—“

 

Holding up his hand to silence Prowl, the commandant vented air impatiently. “There are no buts in this situation, Prowl. Now you’re a good enforcer and I don’t care if he’s the biggest glitch on all of Cybertron, but you will find a way to work with him and you will get this fraggin’ case closed off my books once and for all so we can send the lot of those entitled spies back to Iacon where they belong and you will do it without further incident or you will never work in another enforcer precinct again.” Meeting Prowl’s steady gaze, the commandant narrowed his optics. “Am I making myself clear?”

 

Holding himself stiffly at the rebuke and not so subtle threat, Prowl gave his superior a terse nod. “Crystal, Sir.” He replied his tone clipped.

 

“Good. Make it happen.”

 

Prowl didn’t have to wait to be dismissed, the commandant’s tone said just as much. Marching from the office, all his fellow enforcers knew better than to get in his way as he marched to the one place he knew very well Jazz would be. The sooner this was all over, the better.

****

“I thought I’d find you here.”

 

Jazz didn’t even slow down as the insufferably calm voice interrupted his pummelling of the training drones. With a snarl he grabbed the head component and twisted it from the drone body, throwing it to the ground watching it roll to a stop at Prowl’s feet. “If you’re here to apologise, forget it, I’m here to work.” 

 

“Apologise?” Prowl questioned with a raised orbital ridge, amusement almost colouring his tone. “I am not here to apologise. I am here to inform you that if your emotions and your temper impede this case, my case in any way shape or form, I will personally throw you in the cells.”

 

Jazz folded his arms with a cocky smirk. “You’ll lose your job.”

 

Narrowing his optics, Prowl stepped closer, looking down at the smaller mech, his voice low, tinged with warning. “Irrelevant.” He held up his hand as Jazz started to interrupt and held the mech’s stubbornly dark glare. “You will follow my instructions; we will work together in order to retrieve Bumblebee safely and bring this criminal to justice. You are assigned to work with me; everyone else is already out searching. I will hear no further arguments from you.” Prowl turned on his heel and swept out of the room, pausing briefly to glance over his shoulder at the fuming black and white. “You are capable of being a professional now, aren’t you, Jazz?” 

 

With the blatant dig hanging in the air, Prowl was gone, leaving Jazz to follow in his wake, muttering profanities that would have the majority of mecha blushing and cringing at their usage.

****

 

Much to Jazz’s surprise and reluctant appreciation it was much easier to work with Prowl than he’d originally expected. Prowl was true to form in that he was the same reserved stoic mech Jazz had encountered when he’d first revealed his cover and the mech was by the book professional, which prevented the situation from being anymore awkward than it already was. They’d even managed quiet conversation while out searching the city according to the routes Prowl, Mirage and Blaster had come up with. In fact Prowl was so professional Jazz could have easily been convinced that they’d never had a hot, processor blowing interfacing session within cycles of meeting each other in a bar. Much to his chagrin it was also hard to believe Prowl actually had any feelings for him at all. The mech hid his emotions so well that it was disconcerting for Jazz who was used to working with much more outspoken mechs and femmes. 

 

“So, you and Ironhide huh?” Jazz inquired as lightly as he was able when their search had encountered yet another dead end.

 

Consulting the map once more, Prowl didn’t reply for a few kliks while Jazz fought off the rising jealousy at his lack of response. “There is nothing between Ironhide and myself.” He stated finally, setting off in another direction, his sharp optics scanning the streets as he walked cautiously through them.

 

“Could have fooled me, Prowl.” Jazz laughed shortly, falling into step beside him. “Didn’t figure you for the type to berth hop if I’m honest but then it seems I’m a sucker for you enforcer types, don’t know why I let it surprise m—“

 

“—This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion, Jazz.” Prowl snapped suddenly, whirling around on the smaller mech.

 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Jazz met Prowl’s fierce glare with a slight smirk. “Hey, who you frag in your spare time is your business, I get it...” Walking away from Prowl, Jazz continued on their search, muttering hypocrite as he passed the Praxian who vented air in exasperation, shaking his helm as he followed the mech. 

 

“Do you relish making things difficult?” He asked wearily.

 

“Me?” Jazz snorted derisively. “That’s rich coming from you, mech. Are you sayin—“ Jazz stopped as Prowl’s arm came up across his chest, halting him mid-stride and sentence. “What is it?” He frowned, following Prowl’s sharp gaze, his frown deepening as he watched the distinctive sensor panels rise up slowly on Prowl’s back, stiffening. 

 

“I believe…” Prowl’s voice was a low murmur, his helm turning slightly as though listening for something. “We are being followed.”

 

Jazz tensed, not making any sudden movements, his special ops training kicking into high gear. 

 

//React as though you’re annoyed, make a show of walking away// Prowl commanded on Jazz’s private comm. channel, ignoring the sharp look the visored mech threw him. 

 

//Let me, I’m trained for this…//

 

Meeting Jazz’s gaze with a stern look, Prowl’s door wings arched into a severe ‘V’ on his back. //I need you to trust me…double back… make yourself known on my signal, it will be unexpected//

 

“Prowler…” Jazz hesitated, reluctant to leave the mech to the whims of whatever criminal was lurking in the shadows of the narrow, empty street.

 

“Go. Now!” Prowl ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

 

Snarling in frustration, Jazz transformed and accelerated away from Prowl down the dark alley way, disappearing amidst the buildings. Watching him leave, Prowl tensed, slowly reaching for his standard issue weapon as he raised his voice, calling out to the shadows.

 

“I advise you to reveal yourself, come out slowly and you will be shown lenience for your cooperation.” He released the safety on his weapon and let it hang by his side, his grip tightening around the handle minutely as he turned slowly, his sensor panels picking up movement behind him. 

 

Before he could get a fix on the unknown mech’s position, Prowl heard rather than saw the mech come out of the dark and rush him at full speed. Spinning around he was caught with a glancing blow into his side as they crashed to the ground, jarring one of his sensor panels roughly. Hissing in pain, Prowl fought back skilfully against the flurry of blows and tried to reach for his weapon that had been sent skittering along the floor, managing to get the upper hand for a klik, he wriggled out of his assailant’s grasp and grabbed his weapon only to be knocked back onto his aft from the other direction, a second assailant he hadn’t been expecting swung something large and solid into his helm with enough force to disorientate the enforcer. The blow to the side of his helm whited out his optics temporarily. Hearing the mechs fleeing the scene Prowl sent out the comm. to Jazz and transformed blindly following the sound of retreat, his sirens blaring loudly.

 

Jazz cursed and relayed the message to Mirage and Blaster as he did what Prowl had asked. At full speed he accelerated away from the mech and then doubled back, unseen, unexpected. He heard the sounds of a struggle and Prowl’s sirens screaming out into the street, revving his engine he accelerated towards the sound that was now heading straight for him. 

 

Skidding to a halt, Jazz activated his speakers and sent out a sonic boom as the assailants approached. The two mechs transformed immediately, one of them falling to his knees holding his helm with a cry of pain as the other kept rushing for Jazz who transformed ready to tackle him to the ground. 

 

Mirage appeared out of nowhere and floored the mech in his astonishment as he didn’t have chance to slow down. Approaching his friend with a smirk, Jazz put his foot on the mech’s chest and pushed him back down to the ground, his weapon pointed at his head along with Mirage’s. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

 

Looking up he watched Blaster help Prowl with the other mech while Ironhide seemed deep in talk with Prowl who was shaking his helm at something. Jazz frowned as he spied one of Prowl’s sensor panels hanging lower than the other and Ironhide suddenly having to grab the black and white to steady him. 

 

“’Raj, you got this?”

 

“Not a problem.” The spy replied, heaving the mech up once the stasis cuffs were on him. 

 

“Prowl, what’s going on?” Jazz demanded as he approached, his visor meeting Ironhide’s stern glare.

 

“These aren’t the mechs we want. They are criminals but petty ones, I believe this was a diversion, a test maybe.” Prowl turned round leaving Ironhide to help Blaster with the second mech and frowned in thought as he met Jazz’s questioning gaze. “We will have to interrogate them but I don’t think they’ll know where Bumblebee is.” 

 

Jazz swore and clenched his fist, shaking his helm. “This is ridiculous, so you’re saying we’ve wasted a whole solar cycle?!”

 

“Not necessarily.” Prowl replied, putting his arm out to help steady himself against the nearest wall. 

 

Noticing for the first time, the energon trickling down the side of Prowl’s helm, the cracked chevron and the now severely limp sensor panel; Jazz growled softly and gently took hold of Prowl’s arm to help steady him, his fingers reaching up to inspect the wound on his helm. “You need a medic.”

 

“I’ll be fine.” 

 

“Mech, I don’t know where you get the idea that this is up for discussion.”

 

Mildly taken aback by Jazz’s sudden concern, Prowl fell silent and allowed the smaller mech to help him back to the headquarters, not wanting to aggravate the mech any further than he could tell he already was by the restrained quiver of his energy field. If Prowl wasn’t mistaken, Jazz was angry, very angry and doing a masterful job of keeping it to himself.

****

Prowl winced and grimaced as his door wing was forcibly put back into place, flexing it slowly at the medic’s request he nodded in approval and vented a soft sigh of relief as a pain reliever was injected into the joint to numb the sensors until his self repair systems could finish the job. “Thank you.” He murmured, not really fond of getting no sensory feedback from behind him, it had the odd effect of making him feel a limb short and put him off balance. 

 

“Jazz told me what happened.” Ironhide stated stepping forward once the medic had finished. “You shouldn’t have taken them on by yourself.” 

 

Glancing up at his partner before pushing gingerly off the berth, Prowl stood for a few kliks, finding his centre of gravity without the aid of both sensor panels. “The chances of capturing both without the diversionary tactic of making a show of Jazz leaving were slim. They were obviously aware of Jazz’s skill set and felt bolder to attack me directly.” He stated, starting to walk towards the door, scowling as he wavered slightly, prompting Ironhide to steady him gently. 

 

“It was fraggin’ stupid, Prowl. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, you have to wait for back up, you don’t do everything yourself.” 

 

“There was no time, Ironhide. Bumblebee’s life is at stake, I took a calculated risk. I am more than capable of defending myself.” He patted Ironhide’s hand gratefully as he continued a little more steadily, his partner keeping pace beside him as they headed towards the main offices.

 

“Not the point and you know it.” Ironhide admonished with a pointed look. “You weren’t expecting two, you hadn’t factored in that to your calculations, you could have been killed.”

 

“And yet I wasn’t.” Prowl replied calmly. “Ironhide I appreciate your concern but we have more pressing matters at hand, like finding Bumblebee.”

 

Ironhide let out a disgruntled sound as they approached their office. “Better tell that to Jazz then.” 

 

“There has been further issues?”

 

“Something along those lines, yeah.” Ironhide stated, opening up their office door, displaying the chaotic mess that was inside.

 

Stepping inside the office, Prowl’s mouth actually fell open in shock at the state of the room. His optics drew up the back of the black and white slowly, currently stood with his hands on his hips and his back to them right in the middle of the carnage that had once been his immaculately organised office, his visor fixed on the interactive map. Pressing his mouth into a thin line, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface, Prowl threw Ironhide a look.

 

Recognising the ‘please leave’ look, Ironhide held up his hands and backed off. “All yours, mech, I’m going to catch some ‘charge.” Giving Jazz a wary look as the mech glanced in their direction; Ironhide sighed and gave his partner a slight look of concern. “Holler if you need anything, yeah?”

Giving a small nod of acknowledgement, Prowl met Jazz’s glare with one of his own, neither of them speaking until the door clicked shut. 

 

“Nice office you got here.” Jazz spoke up casually.

 

“Mm, it was.” Prowl responded tersely, the ‘ops mech’s blasé attitude only adding to his irritation. 

 

Giving a shrug, Jazz looked about the office, visor flickering slightly at the mess. “Yeah, sorry about that, guess I got carried away a little.”

 

“A little?” Prowl repeated incredulously not really expecting a mature response. Sighing wearily, he crouched down and began to pick up the datapads that were strewn across the floor. “You should get some rest; I have the night shift enforcers continuing the search.” He muttered too tired and sore to care about how short and fed up he sounded. 

 

Jazz watched Prowl begin to tidy up slowly, stopping every so often to steady himself, his optics dim and guilt at his loss of temper swept over him. He knew it wasn’t Prowl’s fault but the stubborn glitch had almost gotten himself killed, they’d captured two mechs who weren’t speaking and they were no closer to finding Bumblebee, it had been more than Jazz’s temper could take in one solar cycle and his frustration had gotten the better of him. Crouching down beside Prowl he started to pick up the datapads, ignoring the confused look from Prowl.

 

“I thought I said to get some rest?” Prowl stated, placing a pile of data pads onto his desk, using it to steady himself from the sudden movement of standing up straight. 

 

“You did.” Jazz replied quietly, placing his own pile beside Prowl’s. “I ignored you.”

 

Venting air audibly, Prowl turned away to continue tidying. “Why am I not surprised.” 

 

Catching Prowl’s arm gently, stopping him from turning away, Jazz met his curious gaze. “Was worried about you.” He stated softly. 

 

Optics brightening at the admittance, Prowl’s irritation dissipated somewhat. “Your concern is appreciated, Jazz but I am quite alright.”

 

“Yeah…” Jazz frowned and turned away to stare at the map with an accusing scowl. “You shouldn’t have been in that situation, not for me.” 

 

Frowning slightly at the defeated tone from the otherwise normally confident mech, Prowl ventured a step forward and placed a reassuring hand onto Jazz’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You would do the same for me.”

 

Bowing his helm and lifting his arm to place his hand over Prowl’s, Jazz sighed softly. “I don’t know why you have so much faith in me, still, after everything I’ve put you through, lied to you, compromised your case, made life difficult for you...”

 

Stepping closer, Prowl placed his other hand on Jazz’s shoulder and rested his helm against the back of Jazz’s with a vaguely amused smile. “It’s not as bad as you think, having you around.” He replied softly, starting when Jazz turned round, bringing their faces mere inches from each other. 

 

“I thought I’d messed up, getting involved with you after I found out who you were and definitely after you found out who I was…” Jazz let out a short humourless laugh, his visor dimming slightly as he studied Prowl’s face. “Guess I should thank you for not rising to my temper and keeping things professional.” Jazz looked down at the floor with a weary sigh.

 

Gently placing his finger under Jazz’s chin to lift his helm in order to look him in the optics, Prowl smiled slightly. “It was not without some restraint, I can assure you.” He murmured softly. “I’m not emotionless, Jazz, I do still care about you a great deal more than is professional but there is a time and a place for such things and while we’re being open, I should apologise for being so angry at you for not telling me who you really were.”

 

Giving Prowl a lop-sided grin, Jazz shrugged. “We could have both handled that better, mech.”

 

“I guess we were too distracted.” Prowl murmured thoughtfully.

A heavy silence fell between them at Prowl’s words, both mechs going over the events leading up to this moment. Unconsciously, Jazz leant closer to Prowl, his hand coming up to rest on his chest, fingers tracing small light circles as Prowl gently curled his arms about him and drew him close, holding him tightly, his helm resting against Jazz’s with a soft sigh. 

 

“I’m really worried about ‘Bee.” Jazz admitted with a quiet whisper after a few kliks of comfortable silence, visor dimming as he spoke. 

 

Squeezing him gently, feeling the need to comfort and reassure him, Prowl’s optics also dimmed. “Me too…” He answered finally, realising that in this situation there were no words of comfort only a sense of solidarity. 

 

Shaking his helm and drawing back slightly, Jazz frowned at the still sensor panel on Prowl’s back and drew behind him, his fingers running lightly over the smooth metal. “Does it hurt?”

 

“Not at the moment, the medic gave me some pain relief.” 

 

“Ironhide told me how sensitive they were, while you were with the medic.”

 

“Oh he did, did he?” Prowl replied dryly. 

 

Jazz smirked slightly at the tone. “Nothing like that, he wanted to clear up a few things.”

 

Sighing quietly and pursing his lip components, Prowl glanced over his shoulder at Jazz who was lingering between his sensor panels. “That sounds like something he would do.”

 

“He cares about you.” Jazz stated mildly. “He’s a good friend.”

 

“Yes he is.” Prowl nodded in agreement.

 

“Is it true then?”

 

“Is what true?” Prowl frowned as Jazz’s fingers hovered over the uninjured sensor panel.

 

“That you can overload just from touching them?” Jazz asked curiously, his visor fixed on the sensor panel as he made contact and dragged his fingertips along its’ length. He looked up, his visor brightening considerably when Prowl arched his back, inhaling sharply, his optics flickering at the contact. “Huh, well that answers that question.” Jazz murmured in faint amusement. 

 

Turning to face Jazz, drawing his sensor panels out of his grasp, Prowl couldn’t help but smirk at the smaller mech. “He shouldn’t have told you.”

 

“I would’ve found out eventually.” Jazz replied, drawing closer to the black and white, pressing him up against the desk, hands sliding up his midriff.

 

“That is a bold statement.” Prowl breathed, shuddering lightly at Jazz’s touches, his brow furrowing slightly. “Jazz… what are you doing?”

 

Pressing flush to Prowl’s warm frame, Jazz leaned closer and nuzzled him with a lowly purr, murmuring against his audio. “Just need to feel good about something right now… feel like I’m messing up everything I touch.”

 

“Jazz you’re no—mmpff—“ 

 

Prowl’s reply was cut off as Jazz pressed his lips against his and kissed him deeply, a hand curling around the back of his helm as he swallowed a surprised needy mewl from the enforcer. “Jazz we…sho—mmh…uldn’t…” Prowl managed to breathe out in-between Jazz’s needy kisses, his intakes hitching at the closeness and desirable contact.

 

“Please, Prowl…” Jazz murmured kissing along his jawline, dipping his helm to nip and suckle at his throat. “Please…”

 

Panting softly at Jazz’s ministrations, Prowl’s engine revved, he had struggled denying Jazz from the moment they had met and this was no exception. Kissing Jazz fiercely, he gripped his hips and spun them around so Jazz was pressed against the desk. Without hesitation, Prowl lifted the smaller mech to sit on the desk as he ran his hands down his legs, raking over his thighs before stroking back up again to wrap his arms about Jazz as he kissed him deeply, pressing flush to the mech as his legs wrapped around his waist.

 

No more words were spoken as the two mechs indulged each other, Jazz keening with enjoyment as Prowl rocked against him, leaning over him, lying him back on the desk as he kissed him thoroughly, his hands stroking and caressing every seam he could find. Their fields flared with arousal as they panted and writhed together, their ministrations growing needier, more desperate. Jazz arched with a soft cry as Prowl’s fingers brushed over his still closed panel, prompting it to slide open, exposing his components to the cool air of the office. 

 

Their optics met as Prowl slipped a fingertip inside the heat of Jazz’s valve, swallowing the pleasured mewl from the smaller mech with a slow, tender kiss, plunging his digits deeper into the slick valve, relishing the feel of Jazz rippling about them, eager for more. 

 

Jazz keened and rocked into the sensation, his hands coming up to caress the sensor panels flaring out on Prowl’s back, stealing kisses of his own, he wriggled his fingers into the joint of Prowl’s good sensor panel and purred at the deep moan of pleasure it drew out of the black and white, causing him to thrust his fingers deeper into him sending a rush of pleasure through his sensor net, his arousal peaking as Prowl renewed the movement of his hand, scissoring the digits teasingly. 

 

Feeling Jazz shudder beneath him, Prowl’s engine revved hard and he thrust his fingers into the quivering valve a little faster, relishing the needy mewls and whimpers spilling from Jazz’s open mouth.

 

Being so tense before, Jazz’s systems hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of sensations Prowl was bestowing upon him and he felt the charge growing exponentially inside him, building up at his components until they ached and throbbed before flaring out across his entire sensor net with every thrust of Prowl’s fingers. His visor brightened suddenly and he gripped onto Prowl tightly, his whole body tensing and shuddering with release, his mouth falling open with a silent surprised cry as overload crashed into him hard, stalling his intakes as Prowl looked on with bright optics, enraptured. 

 

Falling limp against the desk, Jazz covered his face with his hand. “M’sorry…” He muttered beneath his palm, mewling as Prowl gently pulled his fingers free of his valve. “S’never happened that quick before…” 

 

“Jazz, it’s okay.” Prowl replied softly, gently lifting his hand from his face.

 

Peering up at Prowl, Jazz’s spark fluttered at the sight of the mech smiling down at him fondly before stealing a chaste kiss. “I’m not going to complain when I get to see you like this.” He murmured quietly against his lips. “You’re beautiful…”

 

At Prowl’s whisper, Jazz ducked his helm sheepishly. “Still feel bad…let me make it up to you…?” He asked pushing up to sitting on the desk, pressing flush to Prowl’s obviously heated frame. 

 

“Jazz you don’t need to—“

 

“—Want to, let me please, Pro—“ Jazz frowned as Prowl drew back slightly, a frown forming on his face. “Prowl…?” Confused by the sudden change in demeanour, Jazz slipped off the desk, reaching for the mech, who caught hold of his hand without tearing his optics off whatever had gotten his attention.

 

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this before…” Prowl murmured distractedly.

“What?” Jazz followed Prowl’s gaze to look upon the map behind them in confusion. “That’s why we can’t find Bumblebee!” He exclaimed, looking at Jazz. “I need to get the others. I’m sorry; Jazz I should have seen it.” Prowl quickly kissed his helm. “We can talk about this… later, but you can make it up to me by cleaning my office.” He smiled sheepishly, rushing from the office to recall the others from the recharge rooms.

 

“Wait, seen what?” Jazz called out after the retreating Praxian.

 

“The map.” Prowl stated unhelpfully without slowing down, leaving Jazz standing in complete bemusement in the middle of the office. 

 

“And I apologised about the office!” He shouted after him, scowling as he looked about the mess, muttering to himself indignantly. “I offer him a  overload, he asks me to clean, mech is definitely glitched.”

****


	8. Decisions

The enforcer team were sombre as Prowl relayed instructions to the precinct. Jazz stood to one side his arms folded his face grim. The search team was filled with young mechs and femmes and it concerned him. He trusted Prowl’s judgement that all were expertly trained and perfectly capable in carrying out their duties but the fact that some were barely out of the enforcer academy struck Jazz as somehow, wrong. Something about sending sparklings to slaughter crossed his processor and his frown deepened. 

“You are to maintain comm. locks with me and Ironhide at all times and report in every cycle. We have a missing agent beneath our city, let’s bring him back alive. If you find the suspect you are ordered to attempt arrest, if that is not possible the life of his hostage is priority, you are authorised to use deadly force to ensure Bumblebee’s safety if absolutely necessary. Dismissed.” Prowl’s voice carried through the office and the enforcers dispersed amidst a quiet murmur of voices. 

Turning to the special ops team, Prowl gave them a nod. “Ironhide go with Jazz and Blaster, Mirage you’re with me. I have sent you all a copy of the map of the Praxian sub-system, be careful it is very easy to get lost down there and there is no natural light.”

“How would the suspect have known about the tunnels, Prowl?” Ironhide asked with a frown. “Praxians are barely aware of them.”

“I do not know. It does suggest superior knowledge of this city which does imply the suspect being Praxian but we cannot know for sure until he is captured.” Prowl replied quietly, his face stern as he answered. “It was an aspect of the city that I overlooked. It is an oversight that will be dealt with accordingly once this case is closed. All of you be careful.” With another nod to Mirage, Prowl turned on his heel and swept out of the office, Mirage following swiftly behind him.

Jazz frowned at Prowl’s words. “What does he mean by ‘dealt with accordingly’?”

“He considers it a personal failure, an oversight on his part for not considering the sub-system straight away.” Ironhide grunted, arming his weapon as he glanced at Jazz. “There will be an inquest following the closure of the case, the outcome of which will decide Prowl’s fate as an enforcer.”

“But it’s not his fault.” Blaster exclaimed in confusion.

“Prowl does things by the book. He’ll insist upon an inquest. You better hope we find Bumblebee alive because if we don’t it won’t just be him we lose.”

Jazz scowled deeply. “Explain.” He demanded shortly. “What does this inquest decide?”

“Whether an enforcer has been negligent in his duties.” Ironhide stated grimly. “If his negligence results in the death of an innocent or another enforcer, he will be stripped of rank with the option of being reformatted if he wishes to still remain an enforcer. If not he will be dismissed from the force and disallowed from working in any form of public service again.”

“And Prowl would—“

“—All Prowl wanted was to be a good enforcer, it is his life.” Ironhide spoke soberly leaving the implication hanging in the air as he holstered his weapon. “Let’s go, we’re wasting time.”   
****

The special ops team with Ironhide and Prowl headed for the last known location of Bumblebee and began a cyclic search expanding outward from that last point of contact. Prowl had ordered the rest of the enforcers to start at the edges of the city and work inwards so there would be nowhere for the suspect to run. It was a plan that would work in theory but the sub-systems of Praxus were vastly unexplored, abandoned network of tunnels that spanned the entire city, nobody really knew why they were there or what their purpose was. The city had been built upon an already existing network of tunnels and so many theories circulated as to their origins but on the whole, apart from a handful of scientists carrying out research, the tunnels were ignored and forgotten about.

Prowl was silent as they climbed down the narrow shaft into the dark tunnels. Switching on his head lights, he stepped into the dark tunnel and narrowed his optics as he surveyed the map. “Jazz and the others have entered the tunnels.” He stated as Mirage landed gently beside him. “We’ll head North west this way.” He pointed to the illuminated map before shutting it down. Glancing at Mirage who was a quiet and stealthy companion, much to Prowl’s appreciation, he nodded and led the way cautiously down the dark tunnel, weapon at the ready.

After a while of walking down the dark tunnel, illuminated only by their headlights, Mirage stopped in his tracks, his optics glowing brightly in the darkness at Prowl. Gesturing subtly to a darker tunnel, the spy canted his helm at the enforcer who gave him an equally subtle nod and shifted towards the black entrance of the adjoining tunnel.

No words were exchanged as they continued on their way, strange distant noises making themselves heard in the void. Prowl’s intakes hitched slightly when Mirage lightly touched his arm, signalling him to stop before promptly vanishing before Prowl’s optics. Not expecting the mech to disappear, Prowl blinked his optics once in surprise before feeling a firm touch on his arm as Mirage’s voice came clearly through the comm. 

//I do believe we are now being watched.//

//Judging by the concealed cameras at various locations along our route I have to agree. There are none in this tunnel however.//

//That’s why I activated my cloak here. They will think we separated.//

//They? You believe there is more than one?//

//At this point I’m not ruling anything out.//

//A wise decision.// Prowl glanced about the tunnel and armed his weapon. //We are getting close to Bumblebee’s last known location. Be ready, I do not think we will be alone for much longer.//

//I’m always ready.// Came the spy’s confident reply. 

Nodding as the soft hum of a pulse rifle being armed graced Prowl’s audio, the enforcer headed back out into the larger tunnel and continued on with his invisible, silent companion.  
****

Jazz snarled and kicked at the solid wall in front of them. “What is it with all these dead ends!?” He stomped past Ironhide and Blaster, stealth and subtlety no longer a concern after the ninth dead end they’d run into. “We have to have taken a wrong turn somewhere, probably half way to slaggin’ Kaon by now.” He muttered sullenly as he glared at the map.

“I assume it’s because the city was built in layers. Each new layer’s foundations must have blocked off part of the ancient tunnel network.” Ironhide stated as he examined the wall and surrounding tunnel. “Though why they’re not marked on the map beats me. Praxians I know are a stickler for this sort of thing.”

“Hmpff, amongst other things too I’ve noticed.” Blaster added with a faint smirk at Ironhide, ignoring the dark glower from the agitated black and white. 

Heading back into the tunnel, Blaster quickly changed the subject and frowned into the darkness. “Hey can you mechs hear this?” He canted his helm to one side, increasing the sensitivity of his audios as Jazz and Ironhide joined him. 

“What is it mech?” Jazz asked.

“Radio signals.” Blaster replied and pointed down the tunnel. “That way, very faint.”

“Wait you can hear that?” Ironhide exclaimed in mild disbelief. “We don’t even use radio waves.”

“Blaster’s got the most sensitive audios on Cybertron, no signal gets past him, not even radio waves.” Glancing at the mech, Jazz nodded. “Lead the way, we’ll take it slow, be ready.”

“For what?”   
“For anything.”  
****  
Prowl’s sensor panels twitched as something moved up ahead. Tightening his grip on the weapon he continued forward, his frame tense, ready for the slightest provocation, when suddenly his sensors picked up movement, beneath him.

Mirage halted and glanced at the enforcer who had come to a dead stop and was looking at the ground perplexedly. //What is…?//

Mirage didn’t get change to finish his question. Prowl looked up sharply his optics bright as he started to move, only for the ground to give way beneath him. He dropped heavily to the ground, his weapon skittering from his grasp as he dug his fingers into the hard ground to stop himself from sinking into the dark hole that had formed beneath him.

“Prowl!” Mirage shouted, rushing forward, diving to the ground to reach for his hand. Their fingers grabbed at each other and Mirage hissed as he felt Prowl being tugged from his grasp. “Fraggit, Prowl hold on!” He growled, both his hands clamping onto Prowl’s. 

This time both of them were pulled towards the hole. Prowl looked up into Mirage’s optics, the spy having turned off his cloak so Prowl could grab hold of him. “Let go.” He commanded with an eerie calm.

“Prowl, no. You don’t know what’s down there!” 

“Better that only one of us goes then.” Prowl stated calmly, gently extricating his fingers from Mirage’s arms. “Don’t worry about me, Mirage, let go.” He insisted.

“No!” Mirage hollered in frustration. “Slag it you glitch. I’m more concerned with what Jazz will do to me if I even think about letting you go. Now hold the frag on.” The spy hissed as both bots were dragged towards the hole and Mirage found himself holding the entirety of Prowl’s weight. 

“I’m not going to let you fall too.” Prowl explained, his brow furrowed with concentration? Fear? Mirage couldn’t really be certain. He snarled as he felt Prowl’s grip become lose and he clawed at the enforcer’s arms in an attempt to keep his grip.

“Prowl, you’re too heavy, please just hold onto me!” 

It was to no avail, Mirage felt the tug and watched with dismay as Prowl disappeared into the black narrow hole. Rolling onto his back, his intakes panting, Mirage swore loudly and punched the ground before opening a comm. channel to the other team.  
****

Prowl stifled a groan from the pain of pinched doorwings and shifted gingerly as he onlined his optics. He found himself lying on his side, looking at a grimy wall, his arms secured firmly behind his back. 

Grunting, he carefully pushed himself up to his knees and looked around the room. His intakes stalled when his optics fell onto the sight of Bumblebee curled up in the corner, his plating dented and stained with energon. Getting to his feet, Prowl made his way over to Bumblebee, and knelt beside him. “Bumblebee, can you hear me?”

“Mmpff…” Came the incoherent response. The minibot managed to stir and turn onto his back, his dimly lit optics looking up at Prowl in confusion and recognition. “Prro..ppssfftt…” His vocaliser crackled with damage as he tried to speak.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get you out of here.” Prowl reassured gently. “Offering the minibot a small smile. “Your team is on its way.” 

“Ha!” Another voice had Prowl bristling as he turned round slowly to face his captor. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, enforcer Prowl.”

“You don’t have to do this. You could step away right now and the courts will show lenience.” Prowl spoke carefully, gauging his words.

The Praxian opposite him smirked and folded his arms. “Really, enforcer Prowl I expected better of you.” The mech leaned closer and gripped Prowl’s face firmly. “I used to be just like you but then… I improved.” The mech laughed and shoved Prowl away. 

Unable to catch himself, Prowl fell onto his side, a shiver rippling down his backstruts at the mech’s insane laughter. This Praxian was truly mad.  
“Not to worry. Your lover will be here soon.” The mech turned to him, his optics glinting with an uncontrolled madness, glittering with anticipation. “I wonder how much he’ll give for your life. Not that I haven’t already had everything from him. What I wouldn’t give to hear that sweet voice screaming for me once more.” The mech purred and it shook Prowl to his very core. Just how did this mech know so much and what was his connection to Jazz?

“He hasn’t screamed for you yet has he?” The mech trilled cheerfully, crouching down beside Prowl, his hand stroking Prowl’s helm. “No, he’s been too busy chasing after me to really want you. But you had to push didn’t you Prowl?” The mech’s voice changed, turning into a dark, threatening snarl. “Couldn’t leave well alone, could you? Meddling, stiff as a board, good for nothing, enforcer Prowl.” His sharpened fingers raked over Prowl’s helm eliciting a sharp cry of pain from his captive as they left deep gouges in his helm, one optic splintering under the pressure of the mad mech’s grasp as Prowl tried to jerk away.  
****  
Jazz froze, his expression turning dark as he received a private comm. message. The others watched him in silence and both knew that the news wasn’t good. “Prowl’s been taken.” He spoke with an eerie calm that Blaster knew to signify otherwise. 

“Which way, mech?” He asked over the sound of Ironhide cursing in anger and concern.

“Mirage’s position, that way.” Jazz answered, pointing in the direction they’d been heading. 

“Those radio signals are coming from that direction too.” Blaster commented. “They’re not as far away as Mirage though.” He frowned, humming in thought. 

“What is it?” Ironhide prompted impatiently. 

“Is there another layer of these tunnels below us? One that maybe isn’t on the map? An older layer?” Blaster and Jazz looked to Ironhide who shrugged helplessly. 

“Praxus is one of the oldest cities on Cybertron. It’s possible.” 

“Mirage said that Prowl was pulled through a hole in the ground but he said it was too dark to see where it went and I won’t let him go down blindly. Any chance these radio waves are coming from down there?”

“Only one way to find out.” Blaster replied, setting off at a run towards the source of the signal.

Ironhide and Jazz followed, neither mech needed to speak, they all knew how dire the situation had become. Two lives were on the line now; there was no room for mistakes, no time for hesitations.   
****

Intakes panting, Prowl glared at his captor as best he could through the energon dripping from his wounds. His damaged optic sparked intermittently and he cancelled the error and warning messages being transmitted from the sensors in his damaged door wings. He didn’t recall the mech assaulting them so he must’ve damaged them in the fall, either case it was pain that he did not need right now. “What exactly do you hope to gain from this?” He demanded sternly. “The entire enforcer contingent of Praxus will be bearing down on this location, you have no way out.”

The mech stared at him coldly and his face broke into an almost hysterical smile. “Enforcer Prowl, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to assume?” The mech headed over to his prisoners and lifted Bumblebee roughly off the floor. “Get up scrapling, I want him to see what happens to those he cares about.”

Bumblebee grunted in pain and discomfort, his optics unfocused and dim from loss of energon.

“Leave him be, you’ve done enough!” Prowl ordered, shifting to try and get between the two mechs. His captor reacted quickly and grabbed the closest doorwing, twisting hard. Even if he’d deadened the sensors, Prowl still felt the wrench and the tear from the socket and hissed as he instinctively tried to pull away. 

“You have no authority down here, enforcer Prowl. Not that you ever really had any in this situation.” The mech peered down at him almost piteously. “Such a decorated enforcer, so well-respected. This is quite a fall from grace for you isn’t it?” He leaned closer, the glint in his optics, evil and telling of worse things to come. “This is what happens when you frag strangers, Prowl. You should have stayed well clear, but you just couldn’t help yourself could you?” He snickered and looked Prowl’s frame up and down. “Well maybe we can sort that out for you, hm?” 

Prowl struggled as he was pushed down onto his back and his optics caught sight of the glow of a laser scalpel being whipped out of subspace. He struggled with more vigour as hands began to drift over his midriff. 

“Now calm yourself, enforcer Prowl. This will only hurt for now but will save you a lifetime of emotional anguish. Never again will the urge to interface mar your existence or put you in sticky situations.” He laughed easily as he lowered the scalpel edge towards Prowl’s tightly closed interface panel. “Jazz will be so pleased.” He murmured dreamily. “No more persistent chasing, no more interest from the uptight enforcer. He’ll be free.” He looked Prowl dead in the optic. “He’ll be mine.”

“NO!” Prowl cried out as he felt the hot edge of the laser scalpel burning through his panel. His hands curled into the dirt covered ground as pain shot through him, too extensive and sudden for him to counter as the scalpel easily cut through the thin metal, exposing the components beneath. He screamed.  
****  
Mirage had started to head in the direction of the other team on Jazz’s orders when he stopped and turned around. Jazz didn’t choose him for his team because he was skilled at following orders. Running back to the last place he’d seen Prowl, Mirage made sure his cloak was at full power and readied his weapon. He was a spy and he was going to do what spies did best; infiltrate. Without second thought he stepped into the hole and vanished down into the black.  
****

The laughter was something that struck Jazz and his team as odd. Seemingly disembodied, echoing through the tunnels. They stopped as Blaster examined a portion of the tunnel wall with a frown. “It’s coming from here, lower though.”

“That’s just solid metal though, how…?” Ironhide started, his words cut off as Jazz unexpectedly opened fire. Both he and Blaster exchange a look before following suit.

The wall which was supposed to be reinforced began to crumble and blacken before their optics, when all of a sudden sparks burst out and part of the wall shimmered into nothingness, revealing a steep downwards staircase. Before any of them could comment a scream reached their audios and they broke into a run down the dark staircase.  
****  
The mech screamed as he fought against an unseen opponent. He knew exactly who it was though. He knew all of Jazz’s team and he clawed and swiped wildly at thin air in an attempt to fight back. “Always meddling Mirage, you never change!” He shrieked, spinning around, searching for the noble who remained out of his reach. “Face me like the noble you supposedly are!” He growled. “Or are you a coward like I always told Jazz you were?” He snarled as a hard fist collided with his face, sending him stumbling backwards.

Mirage appeared before him, weapon at the ready, pointing directly between his optics. “You were always were full of slag.”

“So shoot me.” The mech trilled, pressing forward.  
“With pleas—“  
“—Mirage don’t!” 

The noble froze and growled at the command. “Prowl, you’re in no fit state to—“

“—He’s currently unarmed. If you shoot him like this, it’s an execution. He must be arrested. Don’t go down to his level.”

Gripping his weapon tighter, Mirage cursed internally and opened his mouth to argue the point. He didn’t get the chance as Jazz, Ironhide and Blaster burst into the room. “So nice of you to join us.” He commented sullenly.

“I thought I told you to rendezvous with us.” Jazz frowned at the noble.   
“I had other plans.” 

“It’s such a shame, Jazzy.” The Praxian sing-songed at Jazz, ignoring Mirage’s weapon pressed against his helm. “I was about to remove an enforcer shaped problem from your life, forever.”

“You…” Jazz whispered in disbelief. “You’re behind all of this…?” He raised his weapon, tensing when Blaster’s hand squeezed his arm.   
“He’s not worth it, mech. Never been worth it.”

“Who else would go to all this trouble just for you, my Jazz?”

“I’m not your Jazz.” The black and white snarled with hatred. “You walked away from me ever being your Jazz. You’re under arrest. Get this glitch out of my sight.” 

“With pleasure.” Blaster and Mirage advanced on the Praxian who growled defensively. 

Jazz turned away in disgust, his optics falling onto Prowl and Bumblebee, kneeling on the ground, energon dried to their frames. Ironhide untied Bumblebee and gently tended to his wounds with Prowl’s help and Jazz’s intakes stalled when Prowl looked up and met his gaze. His left optic was unfocused and dark, his faceplates marred with deep gouges stained with dried energon, his panel blackened and partially warped out of place and yet still he offered Jazz a small, relieved smile. 

“DON’T TURN AWAY FROM ME!” A shriek filled the air. “DON’T EVER TURN AWAY FROM ME YOU UNGRATEFUL SLAGHEAP!” 

Jazz turned on the spot and everything seemed to move in slow motion, his former bondmate to be had somehow gotten free and was rushing towards him with a pulse rifle pointed at his chest. Several shots exploded at once but the mech was too close, he hadn’t gotten his weapon up in time, had he? The whole world seemed to freeze in time. Jazz stared at the Praxian who seemed to be fixed to the spot in a state of shock. His chest was now a gaping hole and the weapon he was carrying dropped limply to his side, clattering to the floor as he crumpled and fell backwards, his frame greying before it even hit the ground.

Jazz knew his weapon alone couldn’t have done that much damage and he glanced back over his shoulder and raised an optic ridge. Ironhide and Prowl stood either side of Bumblebee’s frame; their weapons freshly discharged, pointing in his direction.

“I’ve had just about enough of that.” Ironhide stated dryly. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I’ve about had my fill of being in these Primus forsaken tunnels.”  
****  
Prowl's optics drifted to the pacing black and white mech once more. Jazz had insisted on remaining in the medical facility while he and Bumblebee were being treated for their injuries. Not that it had done any good, the mech had become seemingly more sullen and moody as time went on, to the point where Prowl was growing concerned.

Once the medic left him alone with a disapproving click at Jazz, Prowl watched Jazz as he approached, seemingly hesitant. "You are distracted," he stated softly, reaching for Jazz's hand.

Looking down at Prowl lying on the berth, Jazz gave him a wan smile. "Can you blame me?" He shook his helm, smile fading as shadows clouded his face. "You could've been killed."

Squeezing his hand, Prowl managed a weak smile, fatigue washing over him from the mild sedatives the medic had put into his energon. "Not your fault... I could be killed every cycle in my job, can't blame yourself for what happened."

"I should've known something... we were going to be bonded I--"

"--I didn't know about... about you..." Prowl murmured drowsily. "Not always right, Jazz... Can't always know..." He raised Jazz's hand and pressed a soft kiss to his fingers, his optics dimming, as he repeated; "Not your fault." 

Jazz remained quiet as he watched the mech fall into a forced recharge. His spark was unsettled. Things had gotten too personal, he could not let that happen again.


	9. Crossing of Paths

The ruling of the inquest had absolved Prowl of any and all wrong doing throughout the case. His commandant praised the result in fact and told Prowl it would reflect well on him in the future. Prowl however, was troubled. Jazz was avoiding him for reasons he didn't understand. After some persuasion and mild threatening, he'd managed to find out about Jazz's former betrothed from Blaster and Mirage. It explained a lot.   
  
Especially how Jazz had been with him in the beginning. He only wished that he hadn't taken this case so hard or would at least talk to him.  
  
Having been given a few solar cycles leave, Prowl finally arrived home. He was looking forward to peace and quiet and a good long recharge. Entering his apartment, he froze, doorwings picking up the slight shift of another presence in the pitch black. "Who's there?" He demanded sharply.  
  
"Got to hand it to you, Prowler, that's some seeing in the dark skill you've got there. You would be good in special ops, ever considered it?"  
  
"Jazz? How did you get in here and why are you sat in the dark?" Prowl asked, frowning slightly as he turned on the light.   
  
Pulling a face, visor dimming slightly at the brightened room, Jazz shrugged. "Got nowhere else to be and figured you wouldn't mind given how much you chased my tail pipe." Staring up at the ceiling from his sprawled position on Prowl's couch, Jazz huffed air from his vents. "Don't worry though, I can take a hint," he shifted, pushing himself up to sitting.  
  
Frown deepening, Prowl made his way over to the mech and sat beside him. "Are you ready to talk to me now?"  
  
"Yeah," Jazz snorted, "I heard you'd been snooping around my personal business."  
  
"What would you have me do, Jazz?" Prowl replied with mild exasperation. "You've been avoiding me and I have no idea why."  
  
"Couldn't just leave it at that, huh? Needed to know just how much of a glitch you were dealing with? I can understand that."  
  
"It's got nothing to do with that and since when have I ever thought you were a glitch?"  
  
Jazz let out a short, humourless laugh. "Oh I don't know, ever since you found out my former bondmate to be was a serial killing Praxian, perhaps?"  
  
Prowl glanced at Jazz, his expression softer. "Jazz you weren't to know..."  
  
"Please, Prowl, I'm special ops I should've known something, anything..." trailing off, Jazz shook his helm.  
  
"But you weren't then," Prowl replied with a cant of his helm at Jazz.  
  
Meeting Prowl's gaze, Jazz huffed lightly. "Really done your homework haven't you, Prowl?"  
  
"Jazz I--"  
  
"--No, I get it... Got to work every angle right? Find out what makes me tick so you can get under my plating, hm?" Jazz shifted quickly and before Prowl could respond, he was straddling the mech's lap, fingers running over his plating. "This is what you wanted, all you wanted, well here I am, Prowl...do your worst."  
  
Frowning, hands resting on Jazz's hips, Prowl shook his helm. "You know that this isn't all I want..."  
  
"Yeah...I learned a lot about Praxians, all of which you probably know now having found out about my sordid past life," Jazz interrupted, voice low as he leant close to Prowl, lips brushing over his audio as his fingers splayed over the smooth metal of Prowl's doorwings. "And I discovered you're all full of promises during the chase but then once you get what you want, once you've used a mech and taken him for the ride of his life, you cut your losses. Ever the practical sort." He smirked darkly at Prowl, grasping his helm with both hands, tugging him into a hard kiss.  
  
Prowl mewled and pushed Jazz away slightly, gripping his shoulders firmly. "What are you doing?" He exclaimed with a confused frown, taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss.

 

Jazz chuckled, lips curling into an ugly smirk. "Ending the charade," with that he dug his fingers into the hinges of Prowl's doorwings causing the mech to hiss and arch sharply. Taking advantage of his distraction, Jazz tugged at the sensitive appendages, forcing Prowl back, pinning him there with a hand on his chest plating sending a medium strength sonic pulse through the metal, eliciting a sudden yelp from the black and white as he reached for the override of Prowl's panel. He whistled mockingly as Prowl's spike was released already in a semi aroused state. "See you want it any way you can get it."  
  
Intakes panting, Prowl stared up at Jazz in a mixture of shock and disbelief at the dark mood of the mech. "Not like this," he whispered, hands curled into Jazz's plating weakly in an attempt to push him away. The sonic pulse had sent his sensor net into spasm, causing him to lose all physical strength temporarily as it was designed to do and and he was unable to stop Jazz's ministrations as the mech's hand brushed over his components.  
  
Jazz's visor fixed onto Prowl's optics and held them as he curled his digits into his valve. His visor flickered as Prowl's mouth fell open into a gasped 'oh' his fingers gripping him tighter, digging into his plating.  
"Please, Jazz... You don't have to do this..." Prowl breathed, holding his gaze. "Talk to me..."  
  
Jazz, for a klik, hesitated his hands stilling before he shook his helm with a snarl. "We're so past talking." Continuing to stimulate Prowl's valve, he pushed his fingers deeper roughly, forcing a sharp intake of air and soft keen from the normally stoic enforcer. Staring into Prowl's face, his optics offline, brow creased with discomfort and concern; Jazz felt a twinge in his spark. Even now, with his hands curled about his hips, not stopping yet not consenting either, Prowl's concern was for him. Not himself. Revelation dawning on him, Jazz's angry expression morphed into one of horror and disgust. Jerking back, eliciting a surprised yelp from Prowl as his digits were pulled free from his valve; Jazz lost his balance and fell back onto the floor. Visor dim as he stayed there, Jazz covered his face with his hands. "Oh Primus... What am I doing...? I'm a monster," he breathed with shame.  
  
Taking a few moments to compose himself and to preserve what was left of his dignity, Prowl closed his panel and slowly leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, optics focusing on Jazz lying at his feet.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Prowl... I should never have... I--"  
  
"--No, you shouldn't have," Prowl interrupted tersely, looking down at the floor with dim optics before meeting Jazz's dim visor, his tone softening slightly. "But you stopped and that lessens the monster aspect somewhat." He shook his helm leveling a dark glare at the other black and white. "But if you ever do something like that again, I will shoot you dead. Am I clear?"  
  
Looking into Prowl's piercing optics, hearing the dark tone in the threat, Jazz nodded meekly. "I'd want you to," he whispered softly. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me... I'm like him..."  
  
Shifting to the floor to sit beside Jazz with a sigh, Prowl took one of his hands and raised it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the metal. "You are nothing like him. How about we try the talking first before you decide to frag me, hm?"  
  
Glancing up at Prowl, Jazz frowned in confusion. "You mean you still want to be with me... after that?"  
  
Meeting Jazz's gaze, Prowl inclined his helm subtly in affirmation.   
  
"I don't understand. You should hate me!" Jazz protested.  
  
"You don't have to understand everything for it to be that way," Prowl murmured softly. "You have a lot of troubled thoughts running through your processor at the moment, Jazz and I do not believe that your intention of coming here was to hurt me."  
  
"I can't believe after everything you'd still give me a chance..."  
  
Chuckling, Prowl squeezed his hand gently. "Count yourself lucky I didn't just shoot you."  
****

 

The two mechs, talked late into the night, talking eventually devolving into kissing and heavy petting. They had long since moved to Prowl's sofa where the Praxian currently had a lapfull of Polyhexian who was taking the opportunity to molest his sensor panels.   
  
Grinning at Prowl's soft whimpers, Jazz continued to caress the smooth, sensitive metal, fingers sliding over his shoulders and down across the curve of his chest. He loved that Prowl was always so responsive to his touches. Tracing the seams down over Prowl's midriff, he grinned as Prowl arched slightly into his hands and gasped when his finger tips brushed over the top most seam of his panel. "Enjoying yourself there, Prowl?" Jazz teased playfully.  
  
Gripping Jazz's hips firmly, Prowl bucked his hips up, grinding his panel against Jazz's. "Would like to a whole lot more," he replied huskily, kneading the mech's hips.  
  
"Would you now?" Jazz purred with a smirk. "Care to elaborate?" He smiled, brushing his lips over Prowl's lips as he ground against him.  
  
Wrapping his arms about the smaller mech, Prowl rocked his hips up more firmly, a hand sliding down to Jazz's aft, squeezing gently, keeping the mech pressed flush against him. "Hm, I think you get the idea, Jazz," he murmured lowly, stealing a deep kiss.  
  
Their kiss became more fervent as they rocked slowly against each other, panels still closed, causing heat to pool in their neglected components.   
  
Intakes hitched as hands found sensitive seams and adorned them with eager caresses. Their lust and fervour grew until they could contain themselves no longer. Without a word, Jazz sat back on Prowl's lap, gazing down at the mech lying beneath him and opened his interface panel.   
  
Prowl gasped as Jazz proceeded to rub himself against his own panel and he retracted it keenly, moaning when Jazz continued his movements but this time was rubbing the delightful heat of his valve over his spike. He shivered, his spike twitching up in response and he wanted nothing more than to be inside Jazz right at that moment.  
  
Seemingly reading his mind, Jazz stopped and shifted, lifting himself up slightly to sit over Prowl's spike. His visor was fixed on the mech's face as he slipped a hand between them, curling it around the hot, hard metal and guided it towards his valve as he lowered himself slowly.  
  
Holding Jazz's waist tightly Prowl let out a deep long moan as his spike was engulfed by the mech's slick, inviting heat. Feeling Jazz's valve ripple and stretch about him was almost too much, he felt so good. "Oh, Jazz..." He breathed with a heady groan.  
  
Jazz didn't reply, he was too busy committing the moment to memory as he sank down over Prowl's spike. His valve throbbed hotly as it was filled and he let air sigh out from his vents as he seated himself completely over the hard spike, relishing the feeling of it inside him for a moment.  
  
All coherent thought faded into a blur along with the outside world as Jazz began to rise and fall over his length. The mech set a steady pace, building up gradually, increasing the delicious friction as his valve clenched and quivered about him. Lost in the moment, Prowl rocked his hips up to meet Jazz as he dropped over his spike, pushing himself even deeper, dragging needy whines from the mech, his face screwing up in pleasure. Prowl was undone.  
  
Jazz couldn't help but rock his helm back with wanton moans as Prowl pushed deeper. His valve ached with every thrust of the mech's hips but it wasn't a painful ache. The feeling was one of being completely full. The hard spike was sliding in and out of him, slamming into the deepest sensor nodes of his valve as their pace became harder, faster more desperate and erratic as their pleasure crescendo-ed into a processor blowing overload.

 

Jazz arched sharply above him, sending his cries to the ceiling, his fingers curling into Prowl's chest as he rode out the waves of his overload, rising and falling with abandon as Prowl thrust his hips up to meet him. He felt that delicious valve clamp down hard on his spike, squeezing his length as he thrust harder and faster into Jazz, hands gripping him tighter, pulling him onto his spike as he felt the wonderful warm feeling of his overload bubbling within him. Thrusting with reckless abandon, rhythm becoming erratic, Prowl felt his spike jerk inside of Jazz and he arched up sharply with a wordless cry as transfluid burst from his length, emptying into Jazz, as his valve tightened once more about him, milking every last drop from his spent spike.  
  
Collapsing over Prowl limply, Jazz was content just to lie there feeling Prowl throbbing inside of him. Draping over the slightly larger mech's frame, Jazz made no move to remove the spike from his valve, instead he muzzled Prowl's cheek, stealing a deep tender kiss, smirking into it when he felt Prowl's spike twitch eagerly in response.   
  
Prowl wrapped his arms tightly about Jazz, humming into the kiss, his glossa swirling over Jazz's sending a renewed rush of arousal coursing through him, causing warmth of desire to flare once more through his spike. Frag if only Jazz knew just how of an effect he had on him, Prowl would be done for. Right now, however, he thought as he rolled Jazz onto his back, pinning the mech beneath him, rocking his hips increasingly into him; he was going to take full advantage and hopefully Jazz felt the same. What he wouldn't give right now to feel his own valve stuffed full with Jazz's ample sized spike.  
****  
Prowl knew the cycle would come but he had honestly thought it would have been different somehow.   
  
Ironhide glanced at his partner. "You going to sit there and sulk for the rest of the vorn or get off your aft and do something about it?"  
  
"He didn't even stop to say goodbye, Ironhide," Prowl muttered quietly, his tone flat and dejected. "There's nothing that can be done about that."  
  
Ironhide shook his helm and silently asked Primus for more patience. "You're such a glitch,"  
  
"Thank you for that observation, very helpful," Prowl replied sarcastically, returning to his work.  
  
Growling at the obvious dismissal, Ironhide marched over to Prowl and roughly dragged the chair away from the desk, turning it to face him. Planting both hands on either arm so Prowl couldn't escape, he glared at the mech. "Did you ever think that maybe goodbye was too hard?" He held Prowl's irritated glare, taking him by the chin when the mech tried to look away from him. "Think about it, Prowl, you're a smart mech," he continued. "You've been inseparable for the past breem he's been here since the case, undoubtedly fraggin' like petro rabbits, do you honestly think he wanted to leave, never mind say goodbye?"  
  
"I--"  
  
"--He is at the transport dock now," Ironhide stated, tugging Prowl determinedly from his seat. "Get your stubborn aft over there and tell the dumb glitch how you feel before you regret it for the rest of your life."  
  
Prowl frowned as he was ushered to the door. "What if he doesn't want anything beyond what we had?"   
  
"It's a chance you've got to take, mech," his partner replied, shoving him from the office. "And if he says no, come back we'll get fragged on some really expensive high grade and get on with our lives all the better for knowing where you stand."  
  
"Why are you so insistent?"  
  
"What you think I want to see you pout whenever you think of him or whine about it whenever you realise how much of a glitch you were?" Ironhide laughed. "No thanks, Prowl. If you don't go I'm putting in for a transfer," he grinned.  
  
Pursing his lips, Prowl huffed indignantly. "Fine, since there's to be no reasoning with you."  
  
"None whatsoever, now go!"  
****

 

Jazz sighed as he took one last glance at Praxus. Iacon was a long way from this city and he doubted he'd be reassigned here again anytime soon. Smiling as Blaster clapped a hand on his shoulder, he followed his team towards the transport.  
  
"Jazz!"  
  
Spinning on the spot, Jazz stared at Prowl as the mech slowed his approach, intakes panting, he'd clearly committed a few speeding infractions in order to catch him. "Prowl, mech... I--"  
  
"--it's alright, Jazz, I'm not good at goodbyes myself."  
  
"Then why?"  
  
Prowl glanced at his team before fixing his optics on Jazz. "Don't leave."  
  
Jazz's visor flickered and brightened. "What?" He whispered.  
  
"Don't leave, stay with me. Please?"  
  
Jazz's mouth fell open and he spared a glance at his team all who were grinning apart from Mirage.   
  
Looking back at Prowl, Jazz shook his helm, frowning slightly. "Prowl our jobs, I don't know if it'd work..." He trailed off as Prowl sank down to one knee in front of him, holding his hands with his, optics bright and earnest as he looked up at him.   
  
"If it meant that you would stay, I could walk away from being an enforcer. As long as you're with me... my life would be complete, please stay?"  
  
Mirage leaned into Jazz, murmuring into his audio softly. "You're a glitch if you don't," he stated, leaving him alone with Prowl as he joined the rest of their team on the transport.  
  
Tugging Prowl up to his feet, his spark fluttering madly in his chest, Jazz cupped his face and kissed him slowly, desperately, pouring everything he had into it. Breaking it, he rested his helm against Prowl's, lips brushing against his as he whispered softly. "I'm sorry, Prowl," he forced himself to turn away, walking steadfastly from the mech who through his persistence; had stolen his spark and rooted himself deep into Jazz's psyche. Stepping onto the transport facing his team, he waited for the doors to close before turning back to look at Prowl. The mech was stood, optics dim, doorwings held high as he raised a hand in farewell, looking in every way like the dignified enforcer he was and Jazz felt his spark sinking with a dull ache as the transport pulled away.  
****  
Several orns later.  
  
Prowl sighed and shook his helm at the overzealous, eager nature of one of his students and headed over to correct his stance, receiving a brilliant grin in return. Ironhide had said the recruit was just trying to impress him, that he was enamoured with him. Prowl had thought nothing of it but given how the mech acted around him he was beginning to agree with his partner.  
  
“Officer Prowl could you show me again please?” The mech spoke up, throwing him a dazzling smile.   
  
He was currently taking the recruits through the basic hand to hand combat training and every time he’d shown them the stance and movement, this particular recruit in question had always wanted a personal demonstration.

 

Prowl had to resist the urge to roll his optics. Ever since the gossip about himself and Jazz had circulated, certain recruits had taken an interest. Ironhide was constantly encouraging him to take an interest in someone, even if it was just casual but Prowl was having none of it. He quite honestly found the behaviour of this recruit, shameless and ridiculous. “Practise with your partner,” Prowl ordered with a stern look, ignoring the recruit’s subsequent pout. Moving through the partnered recruits, correcting as he went, he frowned when the training room door burst open.   
  
“Enforcer Prowl, you have a visitor!” The mech called out.   
  
“I am in class, tell them to leave a message or return later,” he returned, turning his back on the other officer.   
  
“Sir! Wait, Sir, you can’t go in there!”  
  
Prowl scowled and moved between his students towards the door to put a stop to the commotion, when it suddenly re-opened.   
  
“I’d heard some legendary enforcer was here and doing some training I just couldn’t pass up and… Ironhide said you wouldn’t mind, that much,” the speaker grinned and stepped inside the room, revealing himself, meeting Prowl’s astonished gaze.   
  
“Jazz!” Prowl whispered, moving closer, slowly. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I took a career break for some extra training and apparently I hadn’t had leave in several vorns so…” he shrugged, “couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be.”  
  
“So… you’re staying?” Prowl asked hesitantly, coming to a stop in front of Jazz.  
  
“Until such time as my training is complete… which is apparently up to you, so… yeah, I hope.” He ducked his gaze sheepishly, visor dimming slightly. “If you still want me that is…?”  
  
Prowl laughed softly and shook his helm with a smile. Stepping forward he cupped Jazz’s face with both his hands and kissed him soundly, much to the astonishment of his entire class.   
  
Chuckling Jazz laughed and gazed up at Prowl with a bright visor as their kiss broke. “We um, have an audience…”  
  
Wrapping his arms about the slightly smaller mech, Prowl smiled and pressed closer, murmuring softly. “I don’t care,” he laughed, claiming another slow, tender kiss as Ironhide and Prowl’s fellow enforcers cheered gleefully at the door.  
****


End file.
